Ship of the Stars
by Model Builder
Summary: Inadvertently finding themselves in a parallel universe, Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and the rest of the crew of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701, welcome aboard two children who hold the fate of the multiverse in their young hands.
1. Chapter 1

SHIP OF THE STARS

**SHIP OF THE STARS**

**A STAR TREK (TOS) / HIS DARK MATERIALS**

**CROSSOVER FANFICTION**

**DISCLAIMER:**

I do not own Star Trek, His Dark Materials, Dr. Who, The Tomorrow People, Galaxy Quest, Star Wars, or any other television shows or movies named or referenced in my story. There is no intention to make any profit from this story. This is just a hobby. I'm only doing it for fun. I hope this is sufficient for a fan fiction disclaimer.

My "Original Characters" of science-fiction enthusiast Karen Norrington, (Will's future wife,) the as-yet-unnamed 'Eldest Son of the Cassington Scholar' and his 'owl-formed daemon Hypatia,' (Lyra's and Pan's future spouse,) and Will's and Lyra's future children may appear in some as yet unwritten sequel to Ship of the Stars; possibly an HDM / X-Men crossover, though at this time, I am keeping all of my options open.

For the record, I do not really think that Vice President Dick Cheney would _knowingly_ assist alien invaders. If he knew the truth about Sir Charles Latrom and Marisa Coulter, he would undoubtedly order the NSA to quarantine them at Area 51. Also, regarding Madonna and Britney; it can hardly be considered "bashing" them if they are _remembered_ in the 23rd century!

**Historian's Note:**

This story takes place at the very end of the _USS Enterprise's_ historic "five-year mission," circa 2269, in the _Star Trek_ universe. It intersects with the world(s) of _His Dark Materials_, circa 1996; at pages 205 and 206 of _The Subtle Knife_.

Familiarity with the original _Star Trek_ television series would be helpful, but not necessary, although readers with only a cursory knowledge of _Star Trek_ may miss some of the references scattered throughout this story.

Familiarity with Phillip Pullman's _His Dark Materials_, (at least a basic synopsis,) is more important. Readers may want to finish _The Golden Compass_ and get to Chapter 10 in _The Subtle Knife_ to fully enjoy this story. I would highly recommend them, anyway.

The 1996 depicted in Ship of the Stars is a blending of the 1996 of Captain Kirk's and Will Parry's world, and the world we know.

**Prologue: The Land of the Dead, Circa 2370**

Dr. Leonard McCoy was resting in his favorite chair, reading. His holosuite was programmed to depict an old, private library, complete with a fireplace. He was tired and decided to take a quick catnap. He had been doing that a lot lately; taking afternoon catnaps. But he was over 140 years old now, and just didn't have the stamina he once had. As he closed his eyes, he felt his chair gently move underneath him. He opened his eyes and found himself in a small boat. The fishing program?

But this time, it was different. The lake was dark and misty. He did not have his tackle. And he was not alone. Facing him, working the oars, was a man far older than any man he had ever seen. Despite his obviously great age, the man gently, rhythmically rowed the small boat to an unseen shore. "What the hell . . . ?"

"No, not hell," said the ancient boatman. "Though many I have ferried have thought hell to be their destination."

"Oh. I get it now," said McCoy. "This is the Styx River and you must be Charon."

"I have been called by that name," replied the boatman. "As well as by many others that I have long since forgotten."

McCoy shook his head. If this was someone's idea of a joke, it was not funny. "Computer: end program," said McCoy. But the boatman still rowed and the dark water still lapped against the gunwales of the old boat. "Computer: control arch!" Still, no change. "Well," said McCoy, sighing. "I suppose I had to try."

The two men said nothing more for the rest of the trip. Finally, a small patch of land with an old boat dock became visible through the mist. The boatman guided the small craft to the dock and held the boat so McCoy could disembark.

"Uh, I understand that according to the legend, I am supposed to pay you for your service," said McCoy. "But we do not use physical money anymore where I am from."

"A most unusual custom," said the boatman. "I have no need for money. Though many I have ferried have offered me vast riches to not take them. A simple 'thank you' would be quite sufficient. I rarely get even that."

"Well, thank you, then," said McCoy as he stepped onto the dock.

"You are most welcome." And the boatman began to row back, no doubt to pick up his next charge.

Now McCoy walked up the path leading from the dock to the interior of the island. He had not gone far when a winged being landed in front of him, blocking the path. The being was the size of an Earth vulture, but with the head and breasts of a humanoid female. "You are Dr. Leonard McCoy." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, ma'am. Were you expecting me?" McCoy had never seen anyone like her before. The only sentient avian life forms he was familiar with were the Skorr, (and she did not look like they did,) and the Xindi Avians, but they were supposed to be extinct. In the end, curiosity got the better of him. "Excuse me ma'am, but are you a Xindi?"

The winged female looked at him quizzically.

"Now, I don't hold it against you if you are, ma'am. That Xindi attack on Earth was a long time ago. I would like to think we are all able to move on."

The winged female shook her head and sighed. "This was so much easier, so much more straightforward, centuries ago. Before space travel. Before warp drive. Don't you find me repulsive? Frightening? No, of course you do not. To you, I am just another 'alien life form' that you would like to learn more about. Establish diplomatic contact and trade with. Invite to join your 'United Federation of Planets.' You are probably more curious about me than anything else."

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are."

"Well, if it is any consolation," said McCoy gesturing to the surroundings. "This is not what I was taught to expect. But, no, I don't find you especially frightening, no."

"Of course you don't," said the being, with a slight touch of disappointment. "Just to enlighten you, my name is Gracious Wings, and I am a harpy, or you may call me such, if it makes things easier for you." The harpy spread her wings and lifted from the path, hovering in front of Dr. McCoy. "Fortunately for you, my kind no longer craves your fear and shame; it is your stories that we want. It is our price for guiding you through the Land of the Dead that you may move on.

"Normally, any story will suffice, so long as it is a true story. But in your case, there is a specific story that my sisters and I want to hear. It is a story we have craved to hear for centuries. Now, please follow me. My sisters and I await your story. There is also someone who wanted to talk to you. Someone you know very well, indeed."

McCoy followed Gracious Wings as she led him to a large area where others of her life-form (if the term really applied in this context,) sat in a large circle. As the circle parted, McCoy saw a rough-hewn wooden door set into stone. Next to the door stood a man, his back to McCoy. Even before he turned around, McCoy knew who the man was.

"Jim! What in Lucius Beebe are you doing here?" At once, McCoy realized how silly his question was. This was the Land of the Dead. Everyone would come here, eventually. But Jim Kirk died long ago; an accident on the _Enterprise-B_. Had he waited all this time for McCoy to join him?

"I might have guessed that I would find _you_ surrounded by _females_," said McCoy. "Though frankly, they don't exactly look like your type."

Jim Kirk smiled. "So, how are you doing, Bones?"

"I'm . . . _dead_, Jim."

Jim Kirk began a snicker that soon became a hearty laugh. The assembled harpies began to join in as though McCoy just told the funniest joke they had ever heard. In spite of himself, McCoy began to chuckle along as well.

"Guess I kinda, musta had that coming, after all this time," said McCoy.

Kirk told McCoy that the harpies required all who passed through their land to tell them at least one story of their lives as payment for being guided through the Land of the Dead. Any story would suffice; the only stipulation was that the story had to be true. But in Kirk's case, there was one story in particular the harpies wanted to hear above all others, and Kirk said he would need Dr. McCoy's help to properly tell it to them. So, reluctantly, the harpies allowed Kirk to stay and wait for McCoy to join them.

There was a precedent for Kirk's request. When Will Parry had died more than two centuries ago, the harpies told him that Karen, his wife of 62 years, who had died several years before him, had told them her stories and moved on. When he enquired about his childhood friend, Lyra Silvertongue, he was told that she had not yet passed this way; and Will asked if he could stay and wait for her.

Will's request was irregular, but the harpies decided to allow Will to wait, so long as he had stories to tell them to earn his stay. So, like a modern version of Scheherazade, Will Parry kept the harpies' attention with stories of his life as he waited for Lyra to arrive. He told them of his adventures in parallel worlds, of course, but it was the stories of his life after he returned to his own world that the harpies seemed to relish the most.

So, Will told the harpies stories of how he, with the help of his good friend, Dr. Mary Malone, saw that his mother received the proper medical attention she needed to regain her sanity and live a rich, full life.

Will told the harpies stories of how he struggled through the Five Stages of Grief over the irrevocable loss of his boyhood love, Lyra Silvertongue.

He told stories of how he fell in love with Karen Norrington, the smart, pretty young woman that he would marry and spend the rest of his life with. "It was a perfect match, really," Will told the harpies. "Karen _wrote_ science fiction; Kirjava and I _were_ science fiction!" Karen's first novel, _Dr. Who and the Mulefas_, had won several prestigious awards.

Will told the harpies stories about his children with Karen, the twins Lyra and John. He told stories of how his mother positively loved Karen, and how she doted on her grandchildren, no matter how much mischief they got themselves into.

And Will told the harpies stories of how he never missed a single midsummer's day in the botanical garden at Oxford, where he would sit from noon to one, to be with an old friend, who was doing the same thing in her universe.

Then, just when Will thought he was going to run out of stories to tell his hosts, Lyra Silvertongue arrived. They had been faithful to their spouses in life, just like they promised each other they would be. Now, the two old friends embraced and for a moment, they were children again.

Of course, Lyra had her share of stories to tell. Lyra told Will and the harpies that five years after she returned to her world, she and Pantalaimon fell in love with the eldest son of the Cassington Scholar, marrying him and his owl-formed daemon Hypatia, one day after her nineteenth birthday.

Together, they had five children (she named her first son Will,) and Lyra would entertain them all with fantastic bedtime stories of a brave, handsome boy from another world who helped a beautiful princess save her kingdom from an evil wizard's curse.

Will listened to Lyra tell her stories with profound relief. His greatest fear up to then was that Lyra would die alone, an unhappy, bitter old woman, while sitting on the bench in the botanic garden in her Oxford, and Will felt the immediate slap of shame at his thought. Of course Lyra and Pan would have moved on with their lives! They were made of stronger stuff than that!

Then, when their last story was told, Will and Lyra gave each other one last hug, bade Gracious Wings and her sisters farewell, and together, hand in hand, left the Land of the Dead for their second and final time.

"However," said Gracious Wings. "There is one remaining story about Will and Lyra. One we have yet to hear in its entirety, and they could not tell us because circumstances regarding the effects of time travel did not allow them to remember.

"So, we harpies ask you, James Tiberius Kirk, and you, Dr. Leonard McCoy, to favor us with the Lost Story of Will Parry and Lyra Silvertongue. Gentlemen, in exchange for our service as your guides through the Land of the Dead, please tell us of the days that Will and Lyra spent as your guests aboard the _USS Enterprise_."

**Prologue: Cittagazze, Circa 1996**

Will Parry had the Subtle Knife. Lyra Silvertongue had her Alethiometer. And now, Will and Lyra were in the strange world of Cittagazze, safe from the evil Mrs. Coulter and her accomplice, Sir Charles Latrom. And even if Mrs. Coulter and Sir Charles knew exactly where Will and Lyra were hiding; getting to them would be another matter entirely.

No adult could survive long in the world of Cittagazze; the Specters haunting that world would fall upon any adult unfortunate (or foolish,) enough to attempt entry. That was why Sir Charles stole Lyra's Alethiometer in the first place; to force Will and Lyra to retrieve an object from Cittagazze for him: The Subtle Knife. A knife sharp enough to cut _anything_; even the veils separating the worlds of the multiverse from one another.

But Sir Charles, (actually, Lord Carlo Boreal, a resident of Lyra's and Mrs. Coulter's world, who was passing as a native of Will's world,) had vastly underestimated Will and Lyra. And thanks to Will's plan of counterattack, not only did they recover Lyra's precious Alethiometer from Sir Charles' greedy, evil hands, but Will Parry was now the knife's _true bearer_, after it was properly passed to him by Giacomo Paradisi, the previous bearer of the Subtle Knife.

Now the two tired and frightened children sought shelter in a white house a short walk away from the window Will had just closed, gleaming in the full moon over Cittagazze. Lyra helped Will walk to the house, for he was tired from combat, and weak from loss of blood. Lyra fretted over the blood-soaked bandage on her friend's left hand. Will had lost the two small fingers from his left hand, though Will tried to take it stoically, for according to Giacomo Paradisi, it was the Mark of the Bearer; and to prove it, Giacomo showed Will his own left hand with the same two fingers missing.

As Will and Lyra approached the house, they saw some odd-looking shapes lying in the garden. Cautiously, the children came closer. What they first thought were fallen statues, they soon realized were dead bodies. Dead, _adult_ bodies. Lyra gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Her daemon, Pantalaimon, who had been walking beside them in the form of a cat took the form of a small bird and flew to Lyra's shoulder.

"Wh-who were they, Will?" whispered Lyra. Pan also looked over at Will, cocking his little head quizzically.

"Dunno," said Will. "I better take a closer look."

"Oh, Will, be careful."

Though Will and Lyra could not have been more than ten meters away from the bodies, the distance seemed much greater as Will slowly approached. A few times, he stopped and looked back at Lyra and Pan. Partially to reassure them, mostly to see if they were alright. The second time he looked back at them, Pan had changed from a bird into a mouse.

_I'll never get used to this_, thought Will. A few days ago, determined to set out and find the truth about his father's disappearance, Will had left his mentally-ill mother in the care of Mrs. Cooper, his old piano teacher. Since then, he had barely escaped from intruders in his home, crossed over into a parallel version of Earth, met a girl from yet _another_ parallel Earth, where people's _souls_ walked beside them in animal-spirit form, and came to be the bearer of a knife with amazing powers.

_Help!_ Thought Will_. I've fallen into an episode of_ The Tomorrow People, _and I can't get out!_ Oddly, he thought of Karen Norrington, a girl who attended the same Comprehensive he did. Poor Karen was always getting into trouble with the teachers due to her obsessive love of science-fiction. The most recent incident was only last week. Karen had received detention for 'being cheeky' to their stuffy literature teacher. How _dare_ Karen claim that Sir Arthur C. Clarke was a better writer than Charles Dickens?!

When Will reached the bodies, the first thing he noticed was that they were all dressed alike. There were five of them, and they all had on black trousers and boots and red shirts made out of a velour-like material. One of them, apparently female, had blue skin, white hair, and what looked like antennae protruding from her head.

"Who were they, Will?" Will jumped; not realizing that Lyra and Pan had came up next to him.

"More to the point, how did they get here?" replied Will. These people just seemed to be here, with no indication of how they had arrived. "Maybe they know how to make windows. Maybe they are from another world, just like us."

"Look, Lyra," said Pan, who now took the form of a bird again. "They have pistols!"

Will knelt beside the nearest body, a woman with brown hair. Gently, Will took the weapon from her hand. It came out easily, so rigor mortis had not yet set in. These people had died recently, probably not long after they arrived in Cittagazze.

Will examined the pistol. It was not like the 9mm pistol he saw his father wearing in some of his pictures. Were it not for the solid weight of the weapon in his hand, Will could almost mistake it for a child's _Star Wars_ toy.

"Be careful," said Lyra.

"Let's see what this does, then." Will shifted from both knees to one. He pointed the business end of the odd weapon towards a marble statue in the garden, and gently squeezed the trigger. A beam of blue light shot out, striking the statue. The statue glowed white for a second, then vanished. Lyra gasped and held Pan close to her.

"Bloody-hell," whispered Will. "This is a ray gun! I just fired a ray gun!"

Carefully, Will set the weapon down and crawled over to the next body. A man, as he felt uncomfortable at the thought of removing a woman's belt.

"Will, your bandage!" said Lyra. "You're bleeding very badly!"

For the moment, Will ignored Lyra. He also ignored the large assault rifle-type ray weapon lying next to the man. Instead, he fumbled to remove the dead man's utility belt, but found the task nearly impossible with only one good hand.

"Lyra, help me get this man's belt off."

"What?!"

"We'll need a way to carry one of these ray guns, Lyra. I don't see a proper holster, but their weapons must adhere to their belts somehow, just like the other stuff they're carrying."

Lyra dropped to her knees beside Will, speaking firmly. "Let me retie your bandage first, Will. You're loosing so much blood! Then I'll help you with the belt."

Lyra began retying Will's bandage. Before they saw the dead people, Lyra had hoped to find some clean material in the white house to make Will a new dressing, but that would have to wait. After all that they had been through; Lyra could not bear the thought of sleeping in this house knowing there were dead bodies outside.

"Do you think these people came from your world, Will? We en't got anbaric weapons like that in my world."

"We don't have anything like that in my world either, Lyra." _Or blue-skinned people with antennae for that matter_, thought Will. "But with all we have been through, I'll want one of those ray guns to protect us! We'll take the lot, come to think of it. I wouldn't want to face Angelica and her gang again if they got their hands on one of these ray guns also. Hang on; what's this . . . ."

Will reached for a small black and silver box on the man's belt. It came off with a firm tug. "I know what this is, Lyra! This is a mobile phone. People in my world use them all the time."

The mobile opened with a flip of the wrist, making a small chirping sound. But instead of the familiar keys numbering 0 to 9, with a and # symbol, there were only two buttons and three lights.

What's wrong, Will?" said Lyra.

"There are no keys to dial a number." And Will thought: who would he call if there were? 999? Not likely; the police were after him, in all probability. Will pushed the buttons, and the red light began to flash on and off. He set the mobile, or whatever it was, aside for now, and made another try to remove the man's belt.

Now Pantalaimon, still in bird form, flew from Lyra's shoulder and landed next to the body Will was examining. "Lyra, there is some writing here!" Pan hopped over to the book-sized object slung by a strap around the man's neck.

"Let me see, then," said Will. He waited for Pan to hop off of the object before he attempted to pick it up. It was electronic, probably some form of computer notebook. Will turned the object to reflect the moonlight so he could read the inscription:

U.S.S.VOLYNOV

NCC-1803

UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS

'Volynov' sounded like a Russian name. But _USS_ Volynov sounded like the name of an _American_ ship. Did a version of America exist here, in the world of Cittagazze?

Suddenly, Will felt queasy and his ears began to ring. He looked over at Lyra and saw that she was doubled-over like she had a bad stomach cramp. Will saw what looked like water droplets shimmering all over Lyra's body in the moonlight. He could see Lyra call desperately for Pan to come to her, but could not hear her voice over the ringing in his ears. Will's vision began to blur, and the last thing he saw was bird-formed Pantalaimon flying over to Lyra, crashing into her chest without even attempting a proper landing . . . .

The sensation was over as abruptly as it had started. Will realized that he and Lyra were no longer kneeling on wet grass. Instead, they were on a red platform with six metal circles. And they were not alone. There were two men and a woman, dressed similar to the dead bodies they had found.

The man standing behind a pulpit-like instrument panel was the first to speak. "Transporter room to bridge; we have them. They are not from the _Volynov_; they are children."

**Chapter 1**

Captain's Log, Stardate: Classified. The _USS_ _Enterprise_ has returned to Earth orbit at the conclusion of our five-year mission. But before _Enterprise_ could enter space dock where she is scheduled to undergo a major refit, new orders arrived from Starfleet Command. The _Enterprise_ is needed for a rescue mission, one that my crew and ship are uniquely qualified to perform.

Thirteen days ago, the _Miranda_-class Starship, _USS Volynov_, was authorized by Starfleet Command to employ the Light-Speed Breakaway Factor maneuver to conduct historical research in the year 1996. The _Volynov's_ mission: to properly document the conclusion of the Eugenics Wars, including the escape of twentieth-century warlord Khan Noonien Singh and fifty of his genetically enhanced followers on the sleeper-ship, _SS Botany Bay_.

Though scheduled to spend nearly a year in the past, the _Volynov_ was due back three days from their original time of departure. Ten days have since passed, and Starfleet has authorized _Enterprise_ to employ the Light-Speed Breakaway Factor maneuver and return to 1996 Earth, locate the _Volynov_, and render all necessary assistance.

During the five years that Captain James T. Kirk had been in command of the _USS Enterprise_, the Light-Speed Breakaway Factor time travel maneuver had been performed a total of four times, and that was four times more than any other ship in all of Starfleet.

The first time was purely accidental, and nearly resulted in the destruction of _Enterprise_ in the year 1969 by a United States Air Force F-104C Starfighter interceptor. The other three times were intentional. The first intentional usage, of course, was to return to their proper time from 1969. The third and forth times were for historical research in the year 1968. As such, there was no captain, crew and ship in all of Starfleet possessing as much experience with the tricky time travel procedure.

It was because of this experience that when the _Enterprise_ first arrived in 1996 Earth orbit, Captain Kirk immediately realized this time felt different than the past four other times. This time, something was wrong.

Captain Kirk studied the blue-green sphere on the main viewer. No doubt about it, the planet they were orbiting sure _looked_ like Earth. He could just make out Australia and Asia through the cloud cover below them. "All stations report," said Kirk.

"Standard Orbit upon arrival implemented, as per your orders, sir." Said Lieutenant Sulu. "Sensor masks and holographic 'duck-blind' screens are operational. We are hidden from all detection technology available to 1996 Earth, sir."

Lieutenant Chekov reported. "I have located the _USS Volynov,_ sir, but . . . ." The freshly minted lieutenant swiveled his chair to face Kirk. "But . . . Captain?"

"Yes, Ens-, uh, _Lieutenant_ Chekov?" Said Kirk, correcting himself. Even though he had put Chekov in for his promotion, old habits died hard.

"Captain, according to all instruments, we _are_ orbiting Earth, and based on the position of the planets and stars relative to our own position, this _is_ 1996. But captain, other than the _Volynov_, I am not detecting any near-Earth space traffic whatsoever. I am unable to locate the Mir Station, the Hubble Telescope, or any other satellites. There is no Soyuz, Space Shuttle or DY-100 traffic. Sir, near-Earth space is completely, absolutely _empty_! It looks more like what you would expect to find in _1956_; not 1996!"

Then Spock delivered his report. "Captain, surface scans of the planet indicate a global population of approximately 430 million, mostly in small, scattered settlements and numerous groups of nomads. Major population centers appear to be abandoned." Spock looked up from his scanner. "Interesting. Captain, sensors detect no indication of nuclear, chemical or biological warfare, nor do biosweep scans detect any naturally occurring pathogens or toxins in the ecosystem. At this time, I am unable to ascertain the reason for this planet's lack of expected technology and diminished population."

Now, Lieutenant Uhura reported. "Captain, I am not detecting any audio or visual signals from the planet other than sporadic transmissions in what used to be called the 'short-wave' and 'citizen's band' frequencies."

Kirk sighed at Uhura's report. Though broadcast media was notoriously inaccurate, it would still have provided some idea of the planet's condition at the very least. "Anything from the _Volynov_, lieutenant?"

"They do not respond to hails," said Uhura. Then, more soberly, "But, I _am_ receiving an automated transmission from the _Volynov_ on all Starfleet frequencies, sir."

Kirk was afraid of that. He nodded grimly. "On audio, lieutenant." Uhura activated a switch on her console.

". . . TEMPT TO BOARD. WARNING: THE _USS VOLYNOV_ IS A QUARANTINED VESSEL; DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BOARD. WARNING: THE _USS VOLYNOV_ IS A QUARANTINED VESSEL; DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BOARD. WARNING: THE _USS VOLYNOV_ IS A . . . ."

Kirk nodded to Uhura and the communications officer turned the bridge speakers off.

"Captain," said Spock. "I am not reading any humanoid life signs aboard the _Volynov_, however, sensors are detecting the presence of what appear to be . . . non-corporeal entities of unknown type and origin."

"Try scanning the planet," said Kirk. "See if you detect any of these entities on the surface."

"Adjusting sensor arrays," replied Spock. "Affirmative, captain. I am getting the same readings from the planet that I get from the _Volynov_, though in both cases, I am unable to determine an accurate count of the entities."

"Could these . . . entities . . . be responsible for the loss of life on the _Volynov_ and the planet's less-than-anticipated population?"

"Insufficient data," said Spock. "Though this is my current working hypothesis."

Kirk rested his right elbow on the arm of his seat, his right thumb and forefinger forming a cradle for his chin as he assumed the classic Thinker pose while he studied the planet on the main viewer. The Eastern Seaboard of what on Earth would be North America was just coming into view. By now, Kirk was certain that the planet they were orbiting was not Earth. At least, not the Earth they knew.

Kirk needed answers. "Mr. Sulu, bring us along side the _Volynov_ and match our orbit with hers."

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Spock, enter the prefix code for the _Volynov_ and take control of her. Use _Volynov's_ own internal scanners to learn whatever you can about those non-corporeal entities."

"Yes, Captain."

"Lt. Uhura, monitor the radio traffic on the planet. I am authorizing you to attempt contact, but be discrete. Learn whatever you can about what is going on down there."

"Aye, sir." Uhura decided to begin with the 'citizen's band' or 'CB' frequencies. If this world developed anything like their own Earth, the short-wave or 'ham' frequencies would be more formal and procedure driven. She would need a 'call-sign' to make any inquiries and talk to other operators.

But if the history of Uhura's own Earth was any guide, 'CB' operators would be more relaxed and anonymous. A (preferably humorous) name, or 'handle,' would be all she would need to 'ratchet-jaw' with other operators.

Uhura began to adjust the _Enterprise's_ communication's array to pick up and enhance the weak CB signals from the planet's surface, when a red light began to flash on her console. Immediately, Uhura swiveled her chair to address Captain Kirk. "Sir, I'm receiving a Starfleet emergency beam-up signal from the planet!"

Kirk turned the center seat to face Uhura. "Location?" Survivors from the _Volynov_?

Uhura adjusted her Feinberg receiver. "The source of the signal corresponds to what on Earth would be Southern Italy."

"Are you able to raise them?"

"No, sir," said Uhura. "This type of distress signal is used when spoken transmissions are not possible."

"Mr. Spock, can you pick-up anything on your scanner?"

"The source of the signal appears to be two humanoid life forms. One is male, the other; female." Spock checked his scanner. "This is most unusual, captain. I am reading an intermittent 'sensor echo' on the female. However, internal diagnostics indicate no anomalies with scanner hardware."

Kirk activated the intercom on his chair. "Bridge to transporter room."

"Aye, sir," replied Lieutenant Kyle.

"Lock on to the source of the communicator distress signal and stand by."

"Sir, I'm having difficulty achieving transporter lock on one of the targets," said Kyle.

"Let me guess," replied Kirk. "You are getting a 'sensor echo' for that individual?"

"Uh, yes sir," said Kyle. "It appears to be some kind of 'double-image.' But I can't explain it; all the equipment checks out."

"Do the best you can, and stand by. Kirk out."

Now Spock added, "Captain, I am now detecting an indeterminate number of non-corporeal entities; thirty meters from the source of the distress signal and closing."

"Transporter room," said Kirk. "Get those people out of there, now! Bridge to Sickbay."

"McCoy here."

"Meet me in the transporter room. We are initiating an emergency beam-out of personnel under less-than ideal conditions."

"Is that so?" said McCoy. "Well, if you ask me, there is no such thing as 'ideal conditions' when your atoms are being scattered by that damn gadget!"

Kirk rose from his seat and stepped into the turbolift. "Mr. Spock, you have the bridge." Kirk took the turbolift control handle and the doors to the bridge closed. With any luck, whoever they beamed up could shed some light on this multi-layered mystery.


	2. Chapter 2

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 2 **

Dr. McCoy knew that there was a serious problem the moment that he and Nurse Chapel entered the transporter room. Two small shapes were shimmering on the pad and then vanished. "I thought we were beaming people up; not down!" said McCoy.

"We are, sir," said Lt. Kyle, the stress in his voice evident. "I'm cycling them through the pattern buffer. I wasn't able to get a proper lock on one of them, but my orders are to initiate emergency beam-up. I'm attempting to re-assemble them now."

Again, Kyle energized the pad, and the familiar humming sound filled the room. As the two shapes began to form on the pad, Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel both gasped in shock. The shapes on the pad had solidified enough for them to see that the people beaming up were not Starfleet crewmembers. They were children. A boy and a girl no older than twelve. And the girl was doubled over in pain. No sooner had the shapes appeared, they vanished from the pad.

"Damn it, Kyle!" McCoy moved to Kyle's side. "What the hell is wrong, now?"

"I'm recycling them back to the planet, sir," said Lt. Kyle. "I'm getting Heisenberg Scatter on the little girl, but I don't know why! There is nothing wrong with the transporter hardware!"

"Then what the hell does that flashing yellow light mean?" said Dr. McCoy.

"The pattern buffer is starting to overheat. Hold on; I've got a proper lock on the girl now. I'm re-energizing the pad."

The transporter hum was deafening and the yellow light on the console began to flash red, but this time, the two shapes were forming solid. A few seconds later, Lt. Kyle breathed a sigh of relief and activated the intercom. "Transporter room to bridge. We have them. They are not from the _Volynov_; they are children."

"Gee, you think?" said Dr. McCoy dryly. The first thing McCoy noticed was the girl. She was on her knees, hyperventilating, and had her thin, bare arms wrapped around herself, shivering as though she was cold. Then McCoy noticed a little bird on the pad in front of the frightened child. Poor thing must have been caught in the transporter beam. Odd . . . McCoy did not remember seeing the bird during Lt. Kyle's first attempt to beam the children aboard.

Then McCoy looked at the other child. The boy's left hand was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage, but otherwise, he looked alright. Both children were filthy and their clothes were stained and torn. The boy was about to say something when the girl began to gag and then threw up on the transporter pad. The little bird took flight, and barely escaped being drenched by the girl's vomit. Then the bird landed on the girl's shoulder.

"Oh, no . . . ." said Lt. Kyle.

"What's the matter, lieutenant," snapped Dr. McCoy. "You never saw some poor, scared kid loose her lunch after having her atoms scrambled?"

"Toddlers, sometimes," admitted Kyle. "But never a child _that _old, doctor."

The boy went to her side and put his left arm around her protectively. He then turned to face Dr. McCoy, his jutting jaw and fierce eyes belied a maturity far beyond his chronological age. Again, the boy attempted to speak, only to be cut off by the girl.

"_MARK_!" she gasped. "Oh, Mark! I hurt so badly! I feel so sick! I feel like I did at _Bolvangar_; when me and Pan were almost _severed_!" The girl began to cry, sobbing heavily.

The boy turned to face the adults, shifting his intense stare from Dr. McCoy, to Nurse Chapel, to Lt. Kyle. "Right, then, where are we?" demanded the boy. "Who are you? Do you work for Mrs. Coulter and Sir Charles?"

"Ah, you're English," said Lt. Kyle. The transporter chief could place the boy's accent as south-east England, probably Winchester, though the boy's speech had an old, Second Elizabethan flavor. The girl was more difficult. Her accent almost sounded like she was from Oxford Shire, but something about it was, well, off . . . wrong. "Well, that's me, also. I was born in Sheffield."

"I don't care _where _the bloody-hell you're from!" the boy looked about frantically. "Hold on . . . how did Ly - _Lizzie_ and me get indoors?! What is this place?!"

"We can explain that," said Dr. McCoy. "Right now, I promise you, you are safe. My name is Dr. Leonard McCoy; I'm the Chief Medical Officer on this ship. This is Nurse Christine Chapel, and this is Lt. John Kyle. You are aboard the _USS Enterprise_."

"My sister and me are on an _American Aircraft Carrier_? Right! Those don't look like US Navy uniforms you people are wearing!"

Dr. McCoy took a step towards the children, and the boy pulled a gleaming knife from a sheath on his belt. "One more step towards us and I'll kill you!"

McCoy stopped and held out his hands in a gesture of reassurance. "Now put that Arkansas Toothpick away, son; _nobody_ is going to hurt you or your sister." He looked back at the girl. The little bird was gone, but now there was a small squirrel on the girl's shoulder. Where the hell did _that_ come from?

"Don't call me 'son!'" snapped Mark. "I'm _not_ your son! I'm warning you: I _have_ killed before! Now, let us go!"

"Listen to me, Mark," said McCoy. "I'm a doctor; not a kidnapper." McCoy showed the children his tricorder. "I would like to scan you and your sister. I want to see if either of you need immediate medical attention, though I would like to have a _real_ look at your hand, later."

The boy's grip tightened on the knife and he moved closer to his sister. Now Nurse Chapel stepped forward slowly. The boy turned his attention to her, but made no threatening moves with his knife. When she was about a meter away, she got down on her knees in front of them.

"Please, Mark, my name is Nurse Chapel, but you and your sister, Lizzie, may call me Christine. You both look like you have been through so much. We just want to help you. Please let me scan you and your sister to see if you need any immediate care. This won't hurt, I promise. You can hold on to your knife while I scan you two, if you want."

The boy nodded cautiously and Nurse Chapel took out her tricorder. It made a soft, rhythmic whistling noise as she passed the scanner in front of the two nervous children. A few minutes later, she smiled. "There. That's all there is to it! I told you it wouldn't hurt!" She then transferred the results to McCoy's tricorder.

Lizzie wiped a trickle of vomit from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and managed a smile. Nurse Chapel moved closer to her, taking care not to kneel in the puddle of vomit on the deck. The little squirrel on Lizzie's shoulder peered cautiously at Nurse Chapel from behind the girl's dark blonde hair.

"Well, hey there, little fellow," said Nurse Chapel gently. "Aren't _you_ a sweet little thing? Is he yours, Lizzie?" The animal cocked its head. "Well, I think he is so _cute_!"

And Nurse Chapel reached out to pet the small animal . . . .


	3. Chapter 3

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 3**

Captain Kirk had just reached the door to the transporter room when he heard a young girl scream. Then he heard a loud "crash," like something heavy fell to the deck. When the door to the transporter room opened, Kirk found himself in the middle of absolute pandemonium. The first thing Kirk noticed was that a large chunk of the transporter control console was sliced off and lying on the deck.

Then, Kirk saw the source of the commotion. At the far corner of the room, a boy about twelve was standing protectively in front of a girl his age that was holding a small squirrel. The boy was keeping Dr. McCoy, Nurse Chapel and Lt. Kyle away from them at knifepoint. "What the hell just happened here, Bones?"

"We just beamed these kids aboard, Jim. As you can imagine, they were scared as all hell. For a moment, I thought Nurse Chapel had them calmed down, but then she tried to pet that squirrel and the girl went off on Christine like a Capellan Power Cat."

"What happened to the transporter console?"

"The boy cut it with his knife."

"With _that_ knife?"

"Wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself, Jim."

"Who are they?"

"The boy said that his name is 'Mark,' and the girl is his "sister," 'Lizzie.'" Dr. McCoy lowered his voice as he showed Kirk his tricorder. "We were able to scan them, Jim. They are _not_ brother and sister, like he said. Hell, I can't even be sure that they are the same _species_! The boy registers as 'Earth human' on my tricorder, but the girl's DNA shows a .04 divergence. And then, there is the little matter of her, uh . . . pet."

Kirk and McCoy looked over at the children. The girl's pet had changed its shape yet again. Now it held the form of a little mouse that the girl held close to her chest.

"What about the animal, Bones?"

Dr. McCoy shrugged. "Beats me, Jim. At first I thought that it was an allasomorph or a hologram. But it registers on my tricorder as a "sensor echo" of the girl. It may be a telepathic projection of some sort. But I can't worry about the animal or whatever it is now. That boy is bleeding to death and he won't let me treat him.

"What's stopping you, Bones?"

"That blasted knife, for one thing." Again, Dr. McCoy showed Kirk his tricorder, indicating the text message he had just put on the screen: _We need to get these kids to sickbay, pronto; even if we have to stun them with a phaser to do it. They both need immediate treatment._

Kirk nodded. "Let me try talking to them, first. What are they like?"

"Well, if you have ever wondered what the Dohlman of Elas was like at age twelve; you can stop wondering. As for the boy, I think he just might be part Klingon."

"Oh, they can't be that bad, Bones." Kirk looked over at the children. The girl was now behind the boy and the 'mouse' was on her shoulder. Her right arm was around the boy's shoulder and her left hand was clamped tightly over his wounded left hand in an effort to prevent more blood loss.

"In case I'm right and they are, Jim, watch out for _his_ knife . . . and _her_ tears!"

Captain Kirk stepped towards the children, holding his hands up, palms forward. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the United Federation of Planets Starship, _USS Enterprise_. I realize that there has been a misunderstanding, but we only want to help you. Please try to believe me."

Then the girl spoke. "I en't gonna 'try' to believe you; I'm gonna _know_ that I can believe you!" She then slowly reached for a small pouch tied to her belt.

"Right!" said the boy. "Your Alethiometer! Dunno why we didn't think of this before! Just stay back, the lot of you, until she is done!"

The girl withdrew an object from her pouch that looked like an old-fashioned gold pocket-watch. With a practiced hand, she opened the cover and adjusted the three small knobs set 120 degrees apart. Cupping the object in her hands, she looked at Kirk and the others before looking back down at the dial. When she looked up again, her eyes were closed and she appeared to be in a trance. After a few long minutes, she opened her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Gently, she put her hand on the boy's tensed shoulder.

"It's alright, Will," said the girl softly. "We _can_ trust these people." Then to Kirk. "We en't brother and sister. His name is Will Parry. My name is Lyra Silv- _Belacqua_. Lyra Belacqua. My friends call me 'Lyra Silvertongue.' Oh, Will, we _can_ trust these people! They are from _your _world, but from three-hundred years in the _future_!"

Slowly, Will lowered his knife and returned it to the sheath on his belt. "Right," said Will. "But I have to keep my knife. I am the True Bearer. I can't let it out of my sight."

"And another thing," said Lyra. "En't _nobody_ is _ever_ allowed to touch my _daemon_."

"Your 'demon?'" said Kirk. "You mean the . . . animal? Your . . . pet?"

"_Pantalaimon_ is not my _pet_!" said Lyra, the edge returning to her voice. "He is my _daemon_! And en't _nobody_ is allowed to touch him! For _any_ reason! Right?!"

"Alright," said Kirk. "No one will touch your 'daemon,' and Will may keep his knife. Now, let's get you two to sickbay where Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel can fix you up."

"There," said Dr. McCoy. "That's got it." McCoy had finally managed to stop Will Parry's hand from bleeding, though it had taken a fully-charged autosuture to treat the boy's injury. For a moment, Dr. McCoy thought that he would have to get old-school and cauterize, but in the end, the autosuture worked. "Did your knife do this, Will?"

Will yawned and nodded. He was lying on a medical diagnostic bed in sickbay. Will had complained of being cold, so Nurse Chapel covered him with a blanket. Dr. McCoy handed the discharged autosuture to Nurse Chapel, who then handed him a silver wand with an ampoule of blue colored liquid at one end.

"Now, Will, I need to give you an injection," said Dr. McCoy. "I promise this will not hurt. Really, there is no needle. Hypodermic needles went out with postage stamps and television." McCoy pressed the wand to Will's neck. The wand made a non-threatening hissing sound and Will moaned softly as he drifted off to sleep.

"Go on, then," said Lyra. She was sitting on the diagnostic bed next to Will's, a blanket draped over her small shoulders. "Was that something to make Will sleep?" Pantalaimon, her 'daemon,' had changed yet again. Now it was in the form of a ferret, sitting in Lyra's lap.

"No, Lyra," said Dr. McCoy. "Will didn't need any help for that." McCoy then removed the ampoule of blue liquid and replaced it with one filled with an orange liquid. "The injection I just gave Will was a hemostimulant, to help him build up his blood count." McCoy put the wand to the boy's neck again. This time, Will made no sound as the wand hissed. "_This_ injection is a broad-spectrum antibiotic and viral inhibitor, to help prevent infection."

Dr. McCoy went over to Lyra. "I would like to give you the same, Lyra. Especially if you ate or drank anything on the planet we are orbiting. Since you said that neither you nor Will is native to Cittagazze, you two may have ingested microorganisms that are not familiar to your immune systems. This'll help prevent a nasty case of the trots, at the very least." Lyra nodded. She was starting to like this folksy doctor, who, even without a daemon, reminded her of Lee Scoresby by the way he talked.

"Alright," said Lyra, yawning deeply. "I'm so tired. Since my Alethiometer says we're safe, I want to kip as well." Lyra kicked off her shoes, letting them fall to the deck. She then swung her thin legs up on the bed to lie down, wrapping the blanket around herself. Pantalaimon, still in ferret form, snuggled up next to Lyra.

"Oh, honey," said Nurse Chapel. "Wouldn't you like to wash up and change into something clean first?" But it was too late. Lyra was asleep.

"The kids can clean up later, Christine. Right now, they both need some sleep. Doctor's orders." McCoy held the hypospray to Lyra's neck and administered the injection.

Pantalaimon giggled. "That tickles!"

"What in Lucius Beebe!" Dr. McCoy nearly dropped the hypospray.

Nurse Chapel gasped. "Did that . . ., uh, did Lyra's . . . 'daemon' . . . just _talk_?"


	4. Chapter 4

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 4**

Captain's Log, Supplemental: It has been almost 30 hours since we first arrived in what we have determined to be a parallel universe; orbiting an alternate version of Earth. At this time, we are not able to determine just how this happened to the _Volynov_ or the _Enterprise_, much less how (or if,) we will be able to return to our own universe and our own Earth.

Mr. Spock has reviewed the final log entries of the _Volynov_, and has determined that the non-corporeal entities stalking her corridors were inadvertently beamed aboard from the planet's surface. Since this occurred during the emergency evacuation of a landing party, we are fairly certain that these creatures are not capable of space flight on their own and consequently do not pose any immediate threat to the _Enterprise_.

As for the 20th century Earth boy and the humanoid girl that we have beamed up from the planet we are orbiting, Dr. McCoy has informed me that they are both well and currently resting. It is my hope that, after Will and Lyra have rested, cleaned up and eaten, they may be able to shed some light on our current situation.

When Will Parry awoke, the first thing he saw was Dr. McCoy at his bedside to his right. Dr. McCoy was looking at the monitor above Will's bed. He then turned to Will and said, "Glad you finally decided to wake up. How do you feel?"

"How long?" said Will.

"Almost a full day," Dr. McCoy smiled. "You know, Will, the last time that I had someone from 1996 in that bed, he asked me the very same question. He even had a knife, though he was holding it to my throat when he asked me."

"Who was he?"

"Ever hear of Kahn Noonien Singh?" Dr. McCoy told Will of how the _Enterprise_ found Kahn and fifty of his followers a few years ago, drifting in space in the sleeper ship _SS Botany Bay_; the DY-100 Kahn had stolen from the American space agency, NASA.

Will knew about the genetically-enhanced warlord from BBC reports. The telly was always on at his home for background noise and hardly a day went by without some report of Kahn's atrocities. Kahn was said to be five times stronger than any ordinary man and had one-hundred times the greed and ambition. Kahn Noonien Singh made Saddam Hussein and his sons combined look like Mother Theresa by comparison.

When the BBC started reporting about Kahn, Will would have nightmares of Kahn and his followers invading the UK, threatening his mother and him. In Will's dreams, the 'supermen,' as the tabloids called them, would be slowly advancing on Will and his mother as they both trembled in a corner of their home. Will would be holding his cat, Moxie, standing in front of his mother, offering what scant protection he could.

And the dream would end with his father, Colonel John Parry, in full Royal Marine battle gear, coming to their rescue, defeating Kahn in mortal combat and being Knighted by the Queen. And then the Parrys would all live happily ever after; reunited as a family.

But lately, between trying to be inconspicuous at school and keeping up with chores at home as he took care of his sick mother; wasting time and energy worrying about politics was a luxury that Will Parry could not afford.

Still a little sleepy, Will rubbed his eyes. Then, he remembered his hand. His left hand, missing the two small fingers, no longer bled or throbbed with pain. He carefully flexed his remaining fingers. As Will's vision focused, he saw that new skin had covered the stumps. Will was about to thank Dr. McCoy for healing him when he noticed that the bed to his left was empty.

"Dr. McCoy, where is Lyra?"

"Don't worry, Will," said Dr. McCoy. "Lyra woke up about two hours ago, and Nurse Chapel took her to get cleaned up and dressed. Oh, that reminds me; here you are." Dr. McCoy handed Will a black plastic case marked, 'Personal Hygiene Kit – Human Male – Earth.' "You'll want to get clean yourself, Will. We're supposed to meet the ladies in the mess hall when you're done to get a bite to eat. I can imagine you are hungry."

Will nodded. He could not remember the last time he had eaten anything. At the cinema with Lyra? From a street vendor? He swung his legs off of the bed and sat upright, standing on the floor. (Or rather, the deck, as he remembered he was aboard a ship. A starship.) Immediately, Will felt dizzy and steadied himself against the bed.

"Hold on there, Will," said Dr. McCoy. He had his tricorder out in an instant, scanning Will. "No need to worry, young man. You just got up a little too fast. Give it a moment, and you'll be fine!"

"But, I need to clean up; Lyra and Nurse Chapel are waiting for us to meet them in the mess hall."

"They also had a two-hour head start," said Dr. McCoy. "And, when I last spoke to Nurse Chapel a few minutes ago, she told me that Lyra was almost ready. But trust me, Will, these are _women_; 'almost ready' means that _you_ have at least an hour, probably more, to get ready yourself!"

"Then I'd better get started," said Will. "And Dr. McCoy; thank you for making my hand better!"

After Will Parry had showered and dressed, he and Dr. McCoy sat at a table in the mess hall, waiting for Nurse Chapel and Lyra to arrive. "You sure you don't want a little snack while we wait for the ladies," said Dr. McCoy. "Take it from the voice of experience, Will. Women are notorious for taking their sweet time to get ready for dinner; especially when they know men are hungry!"

Will politely declined Dr. McCoy's offer. For now, he was determined to wait for Lyra and Pan. When Dr. McCoy last spoke to Nurse Chapel on the intercom a few minutes earlier, she said that she and Lyra were almost ready. But after twenty more minutes had passed, Will's stomach began to growl, and Dr. McCoy's offer of a snack was starting to sound better and better.

Will watched the door to the mess hall as crewpersons came and went, hoping that Lyra would be the next person to come in. Partly because he was starving, but mostly because he was anxious to see his friend again. The last time the door had opened; Will had to force himself to not stare. The woman who came through the door looked like a human-sized two-legged cat! Will wondered in passing how his cat, Moxie, would react if she were to meet this person, who Dr. McCoy said was named Lieutenant M'Ress.

Just as Will's stomach growled again in protest, the mess hall door opened and Nurse Chapel came in with Lyra. Pantalaimon, who was in the form of a colorful butterfly, hovered close to Lyra's head. Both Will and Dr. McCoy stood to greet the ladies.

Nurse Chapel explained that they had had a 'slight problem' finding clean clothing for Lyra to wear. While the children slept on the medical diagnostic beds in sickbay, the computer scanned them and calculated their sizes. Dr. McCoy requested the Wardrobe Section to fab copies of blue Starfleet duty uniforms (without insignia,) for Will and Lyra to wear instead of the filthy clothes they were wearing when they were beamed aboard.

Dr. McCoy thought that Will looked good in his new clothes, (they even managed to get Will's boot-size right the first time, thought McCoy, who was _never_ so lucky!) The only non-Starfleet item was the belt and sheath holding Will's Subtle Knife. But Lyra said the Starfleet-regulation skirt was "too short" for her. Moreover, she absolutely refused to wear trousers under any circumstances.

So for nearly an hour, with the Wardrobe Section waiting on standby, Nurse Chapel and Lyra (with some input from Pantalaimon,) consulted the computer for the latest fashions that were popular with twelve-year-old girls. Finally, with some goading from Pan, who was starting to feel Lyra's hunger, Lyra selected a crème-colored button-down blouse and an ethnic-print skirt with matching headscarf, vest and slippers. A small shoulder bag for Lyra's Alethiometer completed her outfit, and Lyra smiled broadly when Nurse Chapel said that she didn't mind if Lyra wore the shoulder bag "indoors."

Lyra said that her new clothes made her "look like the Gyptians," of her world, although Nurse Chapel had told her that the style was actually from a planet called Bajor. Pantalaimon, wanting to try something new himself, took the form of a small animal Nurse Chapel had described. But after a few moments as a purring ball of fur, Pan decided that being a "tribble" wasn't for him, and reformed himself as a butterfly.

Will thought that Lyra looked very pretty. He immediately pulled a chair out for her, next to where he was sitting. "You really look nice, Lyra."

"Thank you, Will," said Lyra. "It feels so good to be clean."

Lyra had showered for over an hour, partly to get clean, mostly because it felt so good. And Pantalaimon, who had taken the form of a duck for the occasion, enjoyed it as well. This was the first shower she had ever taken since her stay at Bolvangar. Before that, she had only (grudgingly,) taken baths drawn for her by Mrs. Lonsdale at Jordan College.

Lyra looked at Will, surreptitiously glancing at his left hand as he held a chair for her. Lyra could not believe it, but Will's hand was completely healed! She smiled at Will as he sat in the chair next to her. "You clean up very nicely, yourself, Will Parry."

"Y-you smell really good, Lyra," said Will, kicking himself for sounding so stupid.

"Oh, that," said Lyra, giggling. Pan, still in butterfly form, landed on Lyra's head, gently flapping his wings. "Christine let me use some of her soap and shampoo. It's uttaberry-scented." Uttaberries, Lyra explained, came from a planet called 'Betazed.' She told Will that the Betazoids looked like they did. (Like Will, anyway, since they did not have daemons.)

"Christine also said that the Betazoids are mind-readers!" said Lyra. "Don't suppose they have much use for an Alethiometrist!"

"I'd love to hear more, Lyra," said Will. "Why don't you tell me while we eat?"

"Good idea!" said Lyra.

Lyra asked for hotdogs, hamburgers, and popcorn. Will asked for roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. Unfortunately, Lt. Kyle had eaten the last roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner a week ago, so burgers and hotdogs it was. The galley also sent up a plate of fried potatoes, a tureen of chicken-noodle soup, a bowl of fruit salad, and a chocolate (Lyra called it 'chocolatl,') cake. To drink, there was a pitcher of lemonade and another of iced tea.

Dr. McCoy helped himself to a hotdog and a small bowl of soup. Nurse Chapel took some soup and fruit salad. Will and Lyra just ate. A bite of hamburger. A forkful of chocolate cake. A wedge of fried potato. A spoonful of soup. A bite of hotdog. Some fruit salad.

Will and Lyra just stoked themselves. Oh, their table manners were atrocious! McCoy pretended not to notice Lyra wiping her mouth on her sleeve several times. More than once, Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel had to admonish the children to slow down. No one was going to take their food away, and there would be plenty more to be had later.

As Will and Lyra ate, Dr. McCoy watched Pantalaimon, who had changed from a butterfly into a raccoon, and was chewing on an imaginary morsel. _Whatever these 'daemons' are,_ thought Dr. McCoy. _They don't appear to need any food themselves._ _Lyra's eating seems to satisfy Pan's hunger._

A short time later, Captain Kirk came into the mess hall with a serious looking dark-haired man in a red shirt. As they approached the table, Will saw that Captain Kirk looked pleasant enough, but the other man looked very unhappy.

"Well, Bones," said Kirk. "How are our guests doing? Are they well? Rested? Getting enough to eat?"

Lyra brushed some cake crumbs from her mouth and took a quick gulp of lemonade. "Oh, yes! Thank you, Captain," said Lyra. "Will and I were so hungry!" Pan, still in raccoon form, lay on his back on the table. He let out a loud, juicy burp, and Lyra's face reddened slightly as she covered her mouth with her hand. Everyone laughed.

Everyone, that is, but the man in the red shirt. He looked sternly at Will, who swallowed hard. "So . . . Ye would be the lad that did all the damage to the transporter room. We had ter replace the entire control console _and_ the pattern buffer! Ye would nae be secretly workin' fer the Klingons or the Romulans as a _saboteur_, now would ye?"

"N-no, sir. I'm sorry, sir," said Will, feeling nervous.

"Are ye now?" replied the Scotsman, whose West Lothian accent was so thick, Will doubted that even his Subtle Knife could cut through it. "Well . . . if ye _really are_ sincerely sorry, lad, than I guess I hae nae choice but ter forgive ye!" He smiled broadly and offered Will his hand. "Lieutenant-Commander Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineer of the _USS Enterprise_, at yer service."

"Will Parry." The boy smiled back as he shook the man's hand. "Very pleased to meet you, sir."

"Ah, yer English!" said Scotty, taking note of Will's own accent. "Well, denna worry, laddie, I'll nae be holdin' _that_ against ye! And where abouts would ye be from, then?"

"Winchester, sir."

"Well, I'm from Linlithgow! That makes us next-door neighbors!" When Scotty saw the puzzled look on Will's face, he added, "Best remember _when_ ye are, Will. Winchester to Linlithgow is only a few seconds away by transporter terminal!"

Then Scotty turned to Lyra. "Och, and where are my manners? I dinna believe we've been properly introduced, lass!"

Lyra smiled at the Scotsman. "I'm Lyra Belacqua, and this," she pointed to the raccoon on the table, "Is Pantalaimon; he's my _daemon_."

"_Demon_, now, ye say? Well, he does nae look all that 'demonic' ter me," said Scotty, reaching to pat the little critter on his belly.

"SCOTTY, NO!" said Dr. McCoy. Everyone at the table tensed. Scotty froze in place. Pan changed into a mouse and scampered up Lyra's arm and onto her shoulder.

"Dr. McCoy," said Scotty. "What the devil just happened?"

Dr. McCoy explained the situation to Scotty; telling the engineer that Nurse Chapel's attempt to touch Pantalaimon was the spark that set off the misunderstanding in the transporter room. When McCoy was finished, Scotty promised he would never attempt to touch Pan again.

Captain Kirk promised to issue a ship wide announcement instructing all personnel that Pantalaimon was not to be touched, under any circumstances, as soon as he returned to the bridge.

"There is much we have to learn about your people, Lyra," said Captain Kirk. "If you don't mind, Scotty and I would like to join you at your table, have a bite to eat, and ask you a few questions."

"Questions about me and Pantalaimon?" said Lyra, petting Pan gently to sooth him.

"Not at the moment," said Kirk, realizing that the subject was bound to be sensitive. "I'm mainly interested in how you and Will first met each other and came to be on the planet that we are orbiting. Anything you are able to tell us may help shed some light on how we ended up in this parallel universe ourselves. But first, I'd like something to eat!"

Kirk surveyed the serving platters on the table. The plate the sandwiches were on was empty and only one lonely carrot slice barely floated in what soup remained in the tureen. Only crumbs remained on the cake plate, and the fried potatoes were just a memory.

"There is still some fruit salad left, sir," said Will.

"Oh, it is so delicious!" said Lyra. "We have fruit salad where I am from; but we can't make it this cold and refreshing!"

At the thought of fruit salad for lunch, Kirk just rolled his eyes, even as Will spooned Lyra and himself another serving. Fortunately, all was not lost. Even after all they ate, Will and Lyra said they were still hungry, so Dr. McCoy had requested a southern-fried chicken picnic from the galley about ten minutes before Kirk and Scotty joined them.

As they waited for the food to arrive, Lyra and Will took turns telling Captain Kirk and the others how they first came through the windows in their respective worlds to Cittagazze; the planet that the _Enterprise_ was currently orbiting. Lyra did most of the talking with Will filling in the occasional detail.

As Lyra spoke, Kirk got the impression that he was in the presence of a highly-skilled master storyteller, and frankly, some of what she said sounded quite far-fetched. Sentient, iron-working polar bears? Flying, centuries-old witches? A golden compass that could measure truth? A knife that could cut windows into parallel universes? And it all revolved around the search for Will's missing explorer father and a mysterious element that Lyra called 'Dust.'

It wasn't that Kirk thought Lyra was lying or even exaggerating about the adventures she and Will had had. After the past five years in command of the _Enterprise_, Captain Kirk knew the value of keeping an open mind. In addition, he remembered what Lyra told Will after she consulted her Alethiometer, defusing the tension in the transporter room: _It's alright, Will; we _can_ trust these people_.

Captain Kirk then asked Lyra if she would let Scotty scan her Alethiometer with his tricorder. Lyra nodded and, wiping her hands on her skirt, removed the golden compass from her pouch, opened the cover, and sat it on the table for Scotty to scan. A few minutes later, Scotty closed his tricorder and shrugged.

"Well, Scotty," said Kirk. "What can you tell me about Lyra's Alethiometer?"

"It's . . . _pretty_, sir."

Captain Kirk sighed impatiently, and the chief engineer continued his report. Scotty described Lyra's Alethiometer as looking like a joint-effort between Charles Babbage and Peter Carl Faberge. His tricorder indicated that the instrument was hand-made centuries ago, probably by a single craftsman. It was tightly packed with precision gears, levers and springs, with thirty-six icons skillfully enameled on a gleaming ivory dial.

And Scotty said he had no idea whatsoever how it worked.

"Go on, then," said Lyra. "Would you like me to demonstrate for you?" She picked up her Alethiometer. "Right. Now, ask me anything."

"Alright, Lyra," said Scotty. "Last year, I had ter rig the _Enterprise_ wi' a captured piece of hardware so we could escape from the Romulans. Now tell me, Lass: what did the hardware do and how did I install it on the _Enterprise_?"

Lyra adjusted the three small knobs, looked at the engineer, and closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the alethiometric trance, letting the truth come to her. A few moments later, Lyra opened her eyes and said, "It was an invisibility engine that you took from the Romulans, and you had to make it part of the _Enterprise's_ shields."

"Aye," said Scotty, clearly impressed.

"Now, try me," said Captain Kirk.

Lyra repeated the procedure. This time, she saw a young Skraeling woman, whose ancestors came from Captain Kirk's world. And the Alethiometer told Lyra that she was Captain Kirk's wife, who died the year before. She was stoned to death, along with their unborn child . . . .

"Your wife . . . your child," said Lyra softly. "You could not enter the asteroid deflector control room in time to save her. Oh, Captain Kirk, I'm so sorry . . . ." Lyra brushed away a tear and closed the cover of the Alethiometer. Pantalaimon transformed himself from a mouse to a white ermine, looking at Kirk with sad eyes.

Kirk nodded. "Alright, I'm convinced that it works."

Then, Will asked if Captain Kirk would like Mr. Scott to scan his Subtle Knife. Once more, Kirk nodded, and Will pulled the gleaming blade out of its sheath. Again, Scotty activated his tricorder, passing it over the blade. When the engineer finished scanning the knife, he asked Will to return the knife to its sheath. Then, Scotty turned to Captain Kirk, looking worried.

"Sir," said Scotty seriously. "I'll be wantin' ter scan Will's knife again; this time wi' a tricorder optimized fer _physics_ t' be sure, but that knife is _sharp_, sir."

"How sharp is it, Mr. Scott?" said Kirk, thinking Scotty was being a bit melodramatic.

"Sharp enough ter cut through _neutronium_ wi' nae trouble at all, sir. And that, captain, is nae exaggeration."

Kirk was about to say something when he heard Spock's voice coming over the intercom. "Bridge to Captain Kirk."

Captain Kirk excused himself from the table and went over to the intercom panel on the wall. "Kirk here; go ahead, Spock."

"Captain, we have received another communicator signal from the surface of Cittagazze. Your presence is required in the transporter room."

"On my way; Kirk out."

As Captain Kirk excused himself from the mess hall, he caught the aroma of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits and coleslaw as the food slot door opened and Dr. McCoy set the tray in front of the still hungry children.

**Interlude: In The Land of the Dead **

"Of course, we had absolutely no idea whatsoever how Lyra's Alethiometer worked," said James Kirk to the harpies. "Our theory at the time was that Lyra's species was telepathic, and that her Alethiometer was merely the tool she used to help her mind focus and direct her psionic abilities; but that the Alethiometer had no truth detection capabilities in and of itself."

"I had given Lyra a full medical scan," added McCoy. "But could find none of the usual suspects that would indicate psionic abilities. We found no traces of kironide in her bloodstream. Her brain waives registered as standard humanoid and had nothing in common with other known telepathic species such as Betazoids or Vulcans."

"Nothing at all?" said Gracious Wings. The harpy raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Well, not exactly nothing," said McCoy. "I mean, there was definitely a bioelectric energy link between Lyra and Pantalaimon, but I could not detect any other actively projected bioelectric energy that is common to telepathic communication.

"Now, it was theoretically possible that with Lyra's species, psionic abilities were passive only, but all other known telepathic species had evolved the dual ability to transmit as well as receive."

"We needed contact with other members of Lyra's species to learn more," said Kirk. "Unfortunately, the old proverb that one should be careful what one wishes for, was to prove all too true . . . ."

Captain Kirk met Spock and two security guards outside of the transporter room. When they entered, Lt. Kyle was speaking to someone on the console's communicator link.

"What is it, Spock," said Kirk. "A survivor from the _Volynov_?"

"Negative, Captain. We are in contact with a woman who claims to be the mother of the girl we beamed aboard two days ago."

"Now, I'll need you to stand still, ma'am," said Lt. Kyle into the communicator link. "I am reading a 'double-image' on my scanner; you are difficult to lock onto." Then a thought came to Kyle. "Ma'am, do you have a . . . '_daemon_?'"

"Of course I have a _daemon_," said a lovely, luxurious, though slightly annoyed voice from the communicator. "What kind of silly question is that?"

"Ma'am, I'll need you to hold your daemon as close to yourself as possible . . . ah, there we go. That's got it. I have full transporter lock. I'm energizing the pad, now."

Kirk, Spock and the others watched as two shimmering columns of light formed on the pad. When the shimmering coalesced, the smaller column took the form of a small travel bag with a Type-3 phaser rifle leaning against it. The larger one took the form of a beautiful, dark-haired woman holding a golden monkey.

The woman was stylishly dressed in an outfit that looked like a contemporary interpretation of 1930's Hollywood glamour. Kirk remembered Edith Keeler showing him a similar dress in a magazine during his brief stay in the past, courtesy of the Guardian of Forever.

But this woman was not Edith Keeler. Imperiously, she surveyed her surroundings. She still held the open Starfleet-issue communicator in her left hand while she supported the golden monkey with her right arm. The overall effect made her look like a 21st century 'celebutante,' complete with cellular telephone and exotic 'accessory pet.'

"I am Captain James T. Kirk. Welcome aboard the United Federation of Planets starship, _USS Enterprise_."

"Remarkable . . . ," said the woman. "Am I to understand that travel by anbaric energy is considered mundane where your people come from?" Before Kirk could answer, she continued. "My name is Marisa Coulter, and I have reason to believe that my dear daughter, Lyra Belacqua, is aboard your ship. I am here to take her home."

Marisa Coulter stepped off of the transporter platform, moving purposefully towards Kirk. She closed the communicator and handed it to him. "I believe this belongs to your people, Captain Kirk," she said, then indicated the bag still on the platform. "In addition, the coal-silk bag that I have brought with me contains all the equipment that I could find from the bodies of your fallen comrades." As Mrs. Coulter spoke, her golden monkey pointed towards Spock.

"And . . . you are . . . what?" said Mrs. Coulter.

"I am Spock, First Officer of the _USS Enterprise_."

"That is not what I meant," said Mrs. Coulter pleasantly, but with a touch of annoyance. "And I think you know it."

Spock raised his eyebrows. "I am a Vulcan."

Though not completely satisfied with Spock's answer, Mrs. Coulter accepted it. For now. "Do none of your . . . 'people' . . . have daemons, Captain?"

"None. You and Lyra are the first people with 'daemons' that we have ever encountered."

"Ah. So, my daughter _is_ on your ship? Then you must take me to her at once!"

Though Kirk maintained a poker-face, he kicked himself inwardly. _How could I have been caught off-guard so easily? _He thought. "Lyra claims that you are _not_ her mother."

"Then don't take my word for it, Captain Kirk," replied Mrs. Coulter patiently. "By all means, _confirm my claim_ to your own satisfaction. Surely a people who are capable of travel by anbaric wave and star-ships have an equally efficient method to verify a simple claim of maternity?"

When Kirk, Spock and Mrs. Coulter arrived at the captain's conference room, Kirk spoke into the intercom. "Kirk to Dr. McCoy."

"McCoy here. Is there a problem, Jim?"

"No. Are . . . Will and Lyra still with you, Bones?"

"Yes, they are. We are still in the mess hall, Jim. The kids are _still_ hungry and we are waiting on a hand-tossed Aldebaran Shellmouth and Andorian tuber root pizza!"

"Bones, I will need you to escort Lyra and Will to my conference room immediately. Bring your tricorder. Kirk out."

And Mrs. Coulter, allowing herself the hint of a satisfied smile, sat at the head of the conference room table and waited. Her golden monkey was tense with anticipation.


	5. Chapter 5

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 5**

After a quick stopover at sickbay so Dr. McCoy could retrieve his tricorder, Will and Lyra followed him to Captain Kirk's conference room. Pan, still in the form of a white ermine, was draped lethargically over Lyra's shoulder. Though Lyra was anxious to try pizza, Pan urged restraint, as his hunger was more than sated by the _two_ meals that she had just finished.

"Please, Lyra," said Pantalaimon. "Only a small, tiny nibble. No more than a morsel! Remember, if you get a tummy ache, so do I!"

"Oh, go on, Pan," replied Lyra. "En't you the least bit curious?"

"Actually, this'll be something new for me as well," said Will. "I've had pizza _lots_ of times, Lyra! But I've _never_ had one with _Aldebaran Shellmouth_ and _Andorian tuber root_ as toppings before!" Lyra smiled at Will, and for the first time since he was able to remember, he felt happy.

When they arrived at the captain's conference room, there were two red-shirted security guards standing outside. Lyra saw that both guards had the same kind of anbaric pistols that she and Will had found with the bodies they saw in Cittagazze almost two days ago. Since then, Lyra had learned that these pistols were called 'phasers,' and that if set at full force, they could incinerate a person, causing them to vanish without leaving a trace, or at the lowest setting, the 'phaser' could put a person in a deep, deep sleep.

At their approach, the door to the conference room split in the middle and opened swiftly, like all doors did on this ship of the stars, and Lyra stepped in with Will close behind her. Captain Kirk was there, and so was another man, who was unlike any person that Lyra had ever seen before. He wore a blue shirt, like Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel, and was tall and slender, but his most striking feature was his pointed ears, which made him look like an Elfish Prince from ancient Brytish mythology.

Lyra was so fascinated by the man-elf that she did not immediately notice the third person waiting in the room. Sitting at the far end of the table was a beautiful woman with long, dark hair. Though the woman smiled pleasantly, her golden monkey daemon grinned maliciously. "Oh Lyra, thank The Authority that I finally found you!"

Lyra shrieked with surprise and fear when she saw the woman and the golden monkey and Pantalaimon took the form of a timid little mouse. Immediately, Will stepped between Lyra and the woman, placing his right hand on the hilt of his Subtle Knife.

"Well, well," said the woman dryly. "Aren't you the brave knight errant protecting the damsel in distress?" Mrs. Coulter regarded Will as more of a nuisance than a true threat, though her golden monkey bared his teeth, hissing at the boy.

"Please, Captain Kirk," said Will urgently. "You mustn't let Mrs. Coulter take us!"

"I have no intention of taking _you_ with me, little boy," said Mrs. Coulter, laughing contemptuously. "Since these . . . 'people' . . . are clearly members of your daemonless species, I shall leave you in their custody." Then, more ominously, she added, "Consider yourself fortunate that I do not demand your extradition, as I believe that you are responsible for _kidnapping_ my dear Lyra!"

Will held his ground and tightened his grip on the handle of his Subtle Knife. There was no way this evil woman would ever take Lyra if he had anything to say about it.

"However," said Mrs. Coulter pleasantly as she turned her attention back to Captain Kirk. "In the interest of avoiding an ugly incident between the Magisterium of my world and your United Federation of Planets, I only ask that Lyra be returned to me immediately, safe and sound." The golden monkey tugged on Mrs. Coulter's sleeve and gestured towards the frightened children.

"Ah, yes," said Mrs. Coulter. "Why, thank you Ozymandias. I was so overjoyed at finding my dear Lyra that I nearly forgot all about the other matter. Captain Kirk, my daughter is currently in possession of an antique symbol-reader. This is a priceless family heirloom, and I shall want it returned as well. I shall also want the knife the boy is using to threaten me with, as it is the rightful property of the Magisterium."

"SHE _EN'T_ ME MOTHER!" spat Lyra. AND THE ALETHIOMETER IS _MINE_! THE MASTER OF JORDAN COLLEGE _GAVE_ IT TO ME! AS FOR THE KNIFE, WILL IS THE RIGHTFUL BEARER, HE IS! HE _EARNED_ IT FAIR AND PROPER!"

Captain Kirk looked over at Dr. McCoy, who was holding his tricorder. "Jim, Mrs. Coulter is telling the truth," said Dr. McCoy, soberly. "At least the part about her being Lyra's _biological_ mother. According to my tricorder, their mitochondrial DNA is a perfect match."

Mrs. Coulter's smile was refined and understated. Her golden monkey, however, rubbed his little hands together in triumph. "There, now," said Mrs. Coulter. "Lyra, darling, I think that we have caused these gentlemen enough trouble." Mrs. Coulter rose gracefully from her chair. "Now, come along with me. Let us return to our own world."

Lyra backed away, holding mouse-formed Pantalaimon close to her chest as tears ran down her cheeks. "No! I won't go with you! Oh, I won't!!"

Mrs. Coulter stepped away from the table, moving closer to Lyra, her monkey daemon jumped from the table to her shoulder. "Lyra, we are not going to argue about this. You are my daughter; I am your mother. You heard Dr. McCoy confirm the truth of my claim with his anbaric instrument. Now, come along, dear Lyra. Do as you are told."

"No . . . ." said Lyra, her voice shaking.

"Stay away from us!" said Will firmly. "Captain Kirk! Dr. McCoy! Please don't make Lyra go with her! Mrs. Coulter is evil! She means to _kill_ Lyra!"

Mrs. Coulter ignored Will, but as she spoke to Lyra, her voice was cold. "Lyra, your behavior is most unbecoming for one of our station. It is time for you and I to leave and return home to our own world. Now, come along with me, I shan't ask you again!"

When Lyra didn't go to Mrs. Coulter, the dark haired woman said, "So be it . . . ."

Mrs. Coulter's monkey leapt from her shoulder, quickly scampered around Will, and jumped for Pantalaimon in Lyra's cupped hands. Pan changed from a mouse into a sparrow and attempted to fly out of the evil monkey's reach, but he was not fast enough. The monkey soon had Pan, grasping Lyra's daemon by his throat, squeezing hard. At the same moment, Lyra's hands went to her own throat and she fell to her knees, gasping for breath as though she were being choked. And through it all, Mrs. Coulter remained passive, observing the scene with cool detachment.

"Stop it!" said Dr. McCoy. "Jim! Spock! That woman is assaulting her child!"

Will Parry attempted to rush Mrs. Coulter, but Captain Kirk leapt over the table and grabbed Will from behind, pinning the boy's arms to his side. Kirk was mindful of the damage Will's knife had caused in the transporter room. If the boy were to draw his knife and accidentally sever a plasma conduit in the wall . . . .

Now Pan was able to change his form from a sparrow into a snake, slipping out of the monkey's hands, though the monkey was in hot pursuit. Moving quicker than any human could move, Spock snatched Pantalaimon off the deck and away from the monkey's grasp. Instantly, the Vulcan's expression became blank, and he fell limp to the deck in a catatonic stupor.

"NO!" exclaimed Will. Kirk now saw that Lyra had also fallen unconsciously to the deck. "PLEASE, CAPTAIN, LET ME GO!" said Will urgently. "I MUST HELP LYRA! I WON'T USE MY KNIFE, I SWEAR!"

Kirk released the boy. Immediately, Will pulled off his shirt and dropped to his knees by Pan. But the monkey was there, too. The monkey hissed menacingly at Will and slowly reached for Pan with his golden hands. But Kirk was at Will's side in two steps, and he drove his right foot into the monkey's mid-section, kicking the golden fiend against the bulkhead at the far end of the conference room, away from Will and Pan.

"Medical emergency!" said Dr. McCoy into the intercom. "I need two stretchers brought to the Captain's Conference Room. STAT!" A second later, McCoy had his tricorder activated, scanning Lyra, and Spock. "They're both alive, but unconscious, Jim. I'll need to get them to sickbay before I can say any more."

As this was going on, Will carefully wrapped the motionless, snake-formed Pan in his shirt, taking care not to touch him with his bare fingers, and gently set him on Lyra's chest. Then the conference room door opened and Nurse Chapel arrived with several orderlies, who were guiding stretchers that were actually _floating_ in the air!

But there was no time for amazement or wonder now! Will carefully lifted Lyra and Pan onto the nearest stretcher as the orderlies lowered the other one to the deck, setting Spock on it before returning the stretcher to waist height.

"Please, sir," said Will, slipping his shirt back on. "Please let me go with Lyra!"

Captain Kirk nodded to Will, and soon found himself alone in the conference room with Mrs. Coulter. The exotic humanoid woman was gasping for breath and clutching her stomach as she pulled herself up from the deck and into the nearest chair. Her golden monkey climbed into her arms and she petted him soothingly.

"Captain Kirk," said Mrs. Coulter once she caught her breath. "You are on notice that I am officially registering a formal complaint against that . . . _that_ _thing_ . . . that dared to lay its . . . _filthy paws_ . . . upon my daughter's . . . daemon!"

"Your complaint is noted," said Kirk. "Though as a witness to the incident in question, I will state in _my_ account that Mr. Spock was attempting to _protect_ Lyra's 'daemon' from being attacked by your own 'daemon.'"

Both Mrs. Coulter and her golden monkey glared at Kirk, though the monkey seemed to be keeping a respectful distance.

"In addition," continued Kirk. "Mr. Spock is not a 'thing;' he is a _person_, like you and me. Beyond that, he is a Starfleet Officer and second in command of the _USS Enterprise_, and he has my full confidence."

"I see," said Mr. Coulter, her voice now calm. Her golden monkey scampered from her arms onto the conference room table, where he began to groom himself. Mrs. Coulter rose from her chair. Still rubbing her stomach, she stepped closer to Captain Kirk, standing between him and her daemon.

"I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my outburst, Captain Kirk. Please try to understand _my_ feelings in this matter. _My daughter_ was taken from me, and now, after an exhaustive search, I find my Lyra on a ship that sails through _space_, crewed by people _without daemons_! I must say, I find this entire experience to be physically and emotionally draining!"

"I find this to be an unusual experience, myself, Mrs. Coulter," replied Kirk. "And let me assure you that I have been in many extraordinary situations throughout my career in Starfleet." Mrs. Coulter stepped close enough to Kirk for him to smell her perfume, which was floral-scented but with a slight underlying metallic tinge.

"Now, Captain Kirk," said Mrs. Coulter softly. "Would you be so kind as to escort me to your ship's sickbay? I do so want to be with my dear daughter, Lyra."

In spite of everything Kirk had seen and heard, he found it difficult to refuse the request of the persuasive Mrs. Coulter. She _did_ have a legitimate claim; she _was_ Lyra's _biological_ mother. But when he thought of Lyra, gasping for breath as the golden monkey strangled Pantalaimon . . . .

"For now, Mrs. Coulter," said Kirk. "I will ask you to wait here, in my conference room. I am going to sickbay to speak with Dr. McCoy. I will be back soon to let you know what I have decided." Captain Kirk turned to leave, but Mrs. Coulter moved swiftly, placing herself between Kirk and the door.

"No, I will _not_ stay here and wait, Captain Kirk!" said Mrs. Coulter with tightly controlled force. "Lyra is my _daughter_! That is information enough for you to render your decision! Though we may be on your ship, captain, I will remind you that Lyra and I are citizens of the Magisterium; not your United Federation of Planets or Starfleet.

"You would be well advised to not underestimate my determination. I do not know how similar situations are handled by the daemonless people of _your_ own universe, Captain Kirk, though you should know that the most dangerous creature in _any_ universe is a _mother_ protecting her _child_!"

Captain Kirk gritted his teeth. "Well, according to Lyra, you have more than enough experience with _that _type of _danger_!"

Mrs. Coulter smiled patiently, though for a moment, Kirk saw her golden monkey daemon on the conference table bare its teeth and glare at him. The monkey's little hands were balled into fists of rage. _Interesting,_ thought Kirk. _One high-stakes game of _poker_ with people from Coulter's world, and I could retire from Starfleet and buy my own ship!_

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Coulter. "Well, I see that that Lyra has been favoring you with some of her wild, fantastic stories . . . . Yes, that would explain the shabby treatment that I have received ever since I came aboard your ship!" Mrs. Coulter smiled knowingly. Her golden monkey leapt into her arms from the table. She cradled her daemon as an adult would hold a frightened toddler, no doubt attempting to adopt a more demure, sympathetic posture.

"Captain Kirk, I love Lyra dearly, for she is my daughter. And because she is my own flesh and blood, it pains me greatly to say that my sweet Lyra is a compulsive, reprobate, incorrigible _liar_." Mrs. Coulter sighed and her monkey shook its little head in shame.

"I am only able to assume from your 'clever' verbal jab that my Lyra has told you her currently favorite story. The one where she claims that I am the leader of a secret organization – 'The Gobblers,' I think she calls it – that snatches innocent children off of the street to meet with gruesome ends. Oh, Lyra has been frightening children all over Oxford for the past few weeks with that macabre little tale of hers!

"Now, which _version_ of this story has Lyra told you, captain? Did she say that I sell these poor urchins to the Arabs to be used as slaves? Or did she say that I sell them to the Tartars to be butchered and eaten? Or did she tell you her latest version: That my 'Gobblers' send these unfortunate, terrified little waifs 'up north' to be used in all manner of unspeakable medical experiments?

"Tell me, Captain Kirk, did Lyra even give you her _real_ name when you first met her, or did she say that her name was 'Lizzie,' or some variation thereof? Only the Authority himself knows what she told that highly impressionable boy from your own world. Oh, Lyra has poor Will Parry wrapped tightly around her little finger! You saw Will, captain. He was fully prepared to _kill_ me in a misguided effort to 'protect' Lyra! You see, captain, her sobriquet, 'Lyra Silvertongue,' is well earned!

"Captain Kirk, at first I was furious with Will Parry, but now I can see that I was entirely wrong to blame him for taking Lyra from me. He did not kidnap her; _she_ kidnapped _him_! Poor Will is just as much a victim of her lies as we all are." Ms. Coulter sighed again. "Now do you understand why it is best for all involved that I leave your ship with my daughter as soon as possible?"

"My mind is not changed, Mrs. Coulter." Kirk said firmly.

Mrs. Coulter smiled at Captain Kirk. "You know, there really is no need for us to be so formal. Do please call me Marisa. May I call you James in return? It should make further discussion so much more amenable." She reached out to touch his cheek with her hand, but Kirk took her wrist firmly before she could touch him. Again, the monkey glared at him menacingly.

"I prefer that you address me as 'Captain Kirk.' Or, you may just call me 'captain,' if you want to be quick about it. I think I'll keep calling you 'Mrs. Coulter,'" he looked at the monkey, ". . . and friend."

Mrs. Coulter maintained her composure. "Don't be too quick to dismiss my interest in you, Captain Kirk. I will have you to know that I find you fascinating. Fascinating and exotic. Other than Will Parry, I have never before met a properly living human being without a daemon; and Will is just a boy. But you . . . ." She leaned forward to kiss him.

"Security," said Kirk. The door to the conference room opened and a security guard came into the room, phaser drawn.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"Nothing that you and your partner are unable to deal with, Mr. Striebeck. I am going to sickbay. Your orders are to guard the conference room until I return. Do not let anyone in or out; especially Mrs. Coulter and/or her monkey. If either of them attempts to leave without my permission; stun them."

Mrs. Coulter started to protest, but Kirk cut her off. "Mrs. Coulter, you have a choice: Either you and your little friend will wait here in my conference room until I return; or you may attempt to leave and regain consciousness in the _brig_! Your choice!"

When Captain Kirk arrived at sickbay, both Lyra and Spock were still unconscious. Will was sitting in a chair next to Lyra's bed, holding her hand. A blanket covered Lyra up to her neck. A small bump on her chest, no doubt Pan, was under the blanket with her. Kirk went over to Nurse Chapel, who was monitoring the readout over Spock's bed.

"How are they," said Kirk, keeping his voice low.

"We're treating Lyra for shock and expect her to be alright," said Nurse Chapel. "Pantalaimon became active shortly after we got everyone to sickbay, but only briefly. The poor thing changed into his white ermine form and asked me to unbutton Lyra's top so that he could have direct physical contact with her, just over her heart.

"Do you know what Will did then? He looked away before I started undoing Lyra's blouse without having to be asked, and he didn't look back until I told him that I covered Lyra and Pan with that blanket. And through it all, he never once let go of her hand. Quite the gallant, chivalrous little gentleman we have here!"

"What about Spock?"

Nurse Chapel sighed. "He's alive. Unconscious, almost comatose, but alive. If only Dr. M'Benga was here!"

When the _Enterprise_ first made Earth orbit, before being assigned to assist the _Volynov_, Dr. M'Benga had requested and was granted some much overdo shore leave. Since Dr. M'Benga had interned on Vulcan, he seemed to feel, (though never explicitly stated,) that it was his duty to be constantly available to treat Spock, should the need arise. A decision that seemed justified when Spock was critically injured by a projectile from a flintlock rifle last year on the Neural mission.

"I'll let you know the moment there are any changes in Lyra's or Spock's condition," said Nurse Chapel. "In the mean time, Dr. McCoy said he wanted to see you as soon as you got here. He is waiting for you in his office, captain."


	6. Chapter 6

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 6**

Captain Kirk found Dr. McCoy sitting at his desk. As soon as Kirk entered Dr. McCoy stood and handed Kirk two data disks, one red and one blue. "The blue disk is my report on the incident in your conference room."

"Already? That was quick. I'm still trying to figure out everything that happened."

"Then let me help you, Jim. Lyra is a victim of _child abuse_." Dr. McCoy pointed to the blue disk. "That Coulter woman throttled her own daughter! And in the presence of three Starfleet officers, no less!"

"Dr. McCoy," said Kirk. "Child abuse . . . is a very serious accusation . . . ."

"It's more than that, Jim. It's my _official diagnosis_ as Chief Medical Officer of the _USS Enterprise_."

For a moment, the two men were silent. Then Kirk said, "Bones, Mrs. Coulter was not even near Lyra when . . . ."

"She sent that blasted _monkey _of hers to do her dirty work, Jim, and you saw what happened. When that monkey choked Pantalaimon; Lyra felt the effect. And not just Lyra; did you see what happened to Coulter when you drop-kicked her monkey away from Will so he could help Pan? You knocked the wind out of Coulter and she fell to the deck holding her gut and gulping for breath; and you were nowhere near _her_!

"And earlier in the corridor, I heard Pan tell Lyra not to eat too much because _he_ did not want a belly ache if _she_ got one. Jim, apparently these 'daemons,' whatever they may be, are somehow linked with their people in a way I cannot even begin to understand. That being the case, Coulter was strangling her daughter as sure as if she did it with her own hands."

Kirk sighed. "Bones, we know so little of these people and their customs. For all we know Mrs. Coulter may have been using child disciplining methods that are common and acceptable to her people . . . ."

"Blast it, Jim!" spat McCoy. "Don't make excuses for Coulter! She was brazenly _abusing_ her daughter in front of all of us!"

Child abuse was rare on Earth. A general practitioner, even a pediatrician, was more likely to run into a case of chicken pox or food poisoning. But McCoy knew what he saw was child abuse, pure and simple.

When McCoy was the same age as Will and Lyra, he was visiting his grandparents in Kansas and went to play at nearby Martina McBride Park. The park was named for a local resident who became a famous singer in the early 21st century. In the middle of the park was a marble statue of a young girl that he thought was a representation of the singer herself as a child. But his grandmother told him that it was a reference to one of the singer's most famous songs.

It was a song about a little girl who was being abused by her mother. In the song, the girl died as a result of the abuse because no one who suspected anything wanted to get involved. And Dr. Leonard McCoy would be damned to hell if he just sat back and allowed the same fate to happen to Lyra.

"What do you suggest that I do, Bones?" said Kirk. "Should I send a landing party to Cittagazze to accompany Mrs. Coulter and her daughter? Assuming they manage to avoid the Specters, and find the window to Lyra's world, what do they say to the natives once they get there; 'Take us to your social-service authorities?'"

"My recommendation is on the blue disk. Lyra will come with us, back to _our world_ in the 23rd century."

"For the moment, doctor, I'll have to take that under advisement. As for the other disk," Kirk held the red disk up. "Is this your report about Spock?"

"No, captain. It's about me. I'm putting you on notice. Effective immediately upon our return to _our_ Earth, in _our_ correct time; I am resigning my Starfleet Commission."

"Bones?"

"I will have pressing duties on Earth," said McCoy. "_Someone_ has to take care of Lyra and Will. The poor kids will be scared and out of their element, especially Lyra. They'll need someone to watch over them; advocate for them. And it looks like that _someone_ is going to be me!"

Before Kirk could respond, Nurse Chapel's voice came over the intercom. "Doctor! Captain! Come quick! Commander Spock and Lyra are awake!"

"_I don't believe this!_" said Mrs. Coulter. "You have no _right_ to keep my Lyra away from me!" Mrs. Coulter looked from Captain Kirk, to Dr. McCoy, and then to Spock. "_I_ am Lyra's _mother_!"

Marisa Coulter was seething with rage, but it was rage tempered severely with unaccustomed impotence. She was on a ship in _space_, unarmed and outnumbered. In addition to the three Starfleet officers in the conference room with her, there were two security guards just outside the door. And they were armed with the formidable anbaric pistols that these daemonless creatures called 'phasers.'

"It is our opinion; _my opinion_, as Chief Medical Officer of the _USS Enterprise_, that allowing you to take Lyra would not be in her best interest," said Dr. McCoy.

"In addition to being abusive to your own daughter," said Spock. "As head of the General Oblation Board; you are responsible, directly and indirectly, for the abductions and deaths of hundreds, quite possibly thousands, of children on your own world."

"_Lies!_" spat Mrs. Coulter. "All lies! _Everything_ Lyra has told you are lies! And ridiculous lies at that! You can't possibly _believe_ her outlandish stories about 'Gobblers' and secret experimental stations 'up north!'"

"Not only do we _believe_ Lyra's account," said Captain Kirk. "Mr. Spock _experienced_ everything that happened to Lyra through her own eyes."

Captain Kirk told Mrs. Coulter that Vulcans are 'touch-telepaths,' who have the ability to 'mind-meld' with other individuals. And that such a mind-meld was inadvertently initiated between Spock and Lyra when he snatched Pantalaimon from the deck in an attempt to rescue Lyra's daemon from the golden monkey's assault.

Spock stated that he had experienced Lyra's memories from the moment she and Pantalaimon hid in the closet of the Retiring Room at Jordan College to the sudden shock of mind-meld when Spock and Pan first made contact; and everything in between. Including the pain and terror of when Lyra and Pan were almost severed at Bolvangar.

And all through Spock's annoyingly matter-of-fact account, spoken with just the slightest tincture of accusation, Mrs. Coulter stood stony-faced, though her golden monkey daemon, barely able to contain his rage, looked as though he was about to attack the Starfleet officers at any moment.

Not that Kirk was overly concerned. Spock had informed him that Pantalaimon, what Lyra called her 'daemon,' is actually a physical manifestation of Lyra's _soul_; her _katra_, as the Vulcans would say. And that among Lyra's people, it was _forbidden _to touch another person's daemon. So deeply ingrained was this social taboo that even individuals of Lyra's species who were joined in mortal combat would take great pains to avoid contact with their opponent's daemon, (although their daemons would fight each other.)

Because of this, Lyra was the only person on the _Enterprise_ who was in any actual danger from Mrs. Coulter's daemon. And at that very moment, both Lyra and Pantalaimon were four decks below in sickbay; safely away from Mrs. Coulter and her repulsive golden monkey daemon.

"Just who in the devil are you, lady?" spat Dr. McCoy. "Were you by any chance a man named Dr. Joseph Mengele in your past life? Hell, as head of the General Oblation Board, you were Adolph Eichmann as well as Mengele, rolled up into one disgusting little stylish package!"

"So . . . you believe in _reincarnation_?" said Mrs. Coulter fiercely. "Well, I look forward to seeing you tremble before Father MacPhail himself as you kneel before the Consistorial Court of Discipline on my world for your _heretical beliefs_!"

Mrs. Coulter's golden monkey made a move like he was going to lunge at Dr. McCoy, but McCoy didn't even flinch.

Instead, Dr. McCoy snorted with disgust.

Now Captain Kirk had had enough. "Security," said Kirk. The door to the conference room opened and Ensign Striebeck came in, phaser drawn.

"Please, Captain Kirk," said Mrs. Coulter. "Please let me at least say goodbye to my only child; my dear, precious Lyra!"

"Mr. Striebeck; get her and her damned monkey off of my ship!" said Captain Kirk.

The security team shepherded Mrs. Coulter and her golden monkey daemon into the corridor. Kirk, Spock and McCoy followed them out of the conference room. Abruptly, Mrs. Coulter stopped in the corridor and rounded back to face Kirk and the others. The security team leveled their phasers, but held their fire.

"Know that you will not keep me from my child forever, Captain Kirk!" said a seething Mrs. Coulter. "I will have her back! And when I do have my dear Lyra back in the safety of my arms, I shall see to it that you are all held accountable for your manner with me! YOU WILL ALL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!!" Fighting back tears, Mrs. Coulter turned and continued down the corridor in the direction of the transporter room, with the security team providing escort. The golden monkey daemon continued to glare at Kirk over Mrs. Coulter's shoulder.

When Mrs. Coulter and the security team had rounded the corner, Kirk, Spock and McCoy went to the turbolift. Kirk took the control handle and said, "Bridge," and the turbolift began to move. "I want to be ready to initiate Light-Speed Breakaway Factor as soon as possible, Mr. Spock."

"We are nearly ready, captain," said Spock. "I would like to make a few more adjustments before we execute our return maneuver."

Although Spock had been unable to determine the circumstances that had caused the _Volynov_ and later, the _Enterprise_, to travel spatially into a parallel universe as well as temporally to the late 20th century; he was able to theorize, after running dozens of computer simulations, that reversing their entrance vector should return them to their proper universe and time.

"Well, at least that is over," said Dr. McCoy. Though in truth, for Lyra, Pantalaimon, and Will, much more was yet to come. "Could you gentlemen drop me off at sickbay. I would like to make sure that the children are safely restrained before we head back."

"It may be a while before we are actually able to leave, Bones," said Kirk.

"I estimate another thirty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds will be required to run additional tests and complete all final adjustments, captain," added Spock.

"Well, I don't know about you, Bones," said Kirk. "But if I was twelve-years old, I wouldn't want to be strapped down for half an hour, maybe even longer, just waiting. Tell you what, Bones, why don't we drop you off at sickbay and you can bring Will and Lyra to the bridge. I'll let them look around for a short time; provided they keep to the side and stay out of everyone's way."


	7. Chapter 7

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 7 **

The turbolift doors opened and Will Parry and Lyra Belacqua stepped onto the bridge of the _USS Enterprise_. Dr. McCoy stood behind them, a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders, being mindful not to touch Pantalaimon, who still held the form of a white ermine.

"We can't stay here long, children," said Dr. McCoy. "We'll be leaving soon for our own time and universe, and a 'slingshot maneuver' is very rough. Captain Kirk and I want the two of you," Pantalaimon shot the doctor a 'what-about-me?' look, and McCoy smiled at his mistake. "I mean, _three_ of you, safely strapped down in sickbay when we leave for home."

_Home_, thought Will. When he had left his home less than a week ago, it was 1996. Will had left his sick mother in the care of his old piano teacher, Mrs. Cooper, telling them that he would be back soon. Now it seemed that 'soon' would mean 2269.

Captain Kirk, Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock had explained to Will that even though time travel was possible, it was not something that Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets did promiscuously. Serious damage could be done to the space-time continuum and history itself could be changed if the proper care was not taken. Because of this, it would not be possible for them to allow Will to return to Cittagazze and from there, his own world with knowledge of the 23rd century. Will would have to go back with them.

At first, Will protested. His mother was sick and needed him with her. Fighting back tears, Will pleaded with Captain Kirk to be allowed to return home to care for his mother and find his father. Will swore on his honor that he would not tell anyone in his time about 23rd century Earth.

But before Captain Kirk could say anything more, Lyra took out her Alethiometer, adjusted the knobs, looked at Will, and slipped into her Alethiometric trance. A moment later, she opened her eyes and told Will and they both had to return with the others on the _Enterprise_ to the 23rd century. There was nothing more that Will could do for his mother and father.

Will looked over his shoulder at the man behind him and Lyra, and Dr. McCoy smiled at him. Here was a kind man. Earlier, Dr. McCoy had said that he intended to resign his commission with Starfleet when they returned to 23rd century Earth, and that Will, Lyra and Pan could live with him for as long as they wanted.

It would not be easy at first. Surely Starfleet, an organization whose stated purpose was to '. . . seek out new life-forms, and new civilizations,' would want to question Will and Lyra at length about their travels. Also inevitable, Will imagined, would be the swarm of Starfleet medical boffins who would want to scan, poke and prod Lyra (and Pan,) as much as she would let them.

Will looked at the bridge of the Enterprise with some interest. This _was _the real thing. But years of watching _Dr. Who_, _Blake's 7_, and that American import, _Galaxy Quest_, had blunted some of the impact of being on an actual 23rd century starship. As a result, Will felt neither awed or amazed. What he did feel, however, for the first time in his life, was safe. These were good people, and Will knew that they would not harm him or Lyra.

At the raised center seat, Captain Kirk swiveled to face Will and Lyra, reflecting that they were the first children to set foot on the bridge of his ship since the orphans from the ill-fated Starnes Mission.

"Welcome to the bridge of the _Enterprise_, kids," said Kirk. "You may look around a few moments; just stay out of everyone's way."

Lyra was so amazed by the sights before her that Pan had to nip her ear to get her attention and remind her to thank Captain Kirk. Like the control rooms at Bolvangar on her world, the _Enterprise_ bridge was lined with anbaric instruments whose function Lyra cold only guess at. But unlike Bolvangar, the bridge of the _Enterprise_ radiated a feeling of good will and protection.

Lyra stepped to her right, towards a control station where a beautiful African woman was working. Lyra smiled at her and when she smiled back, Pantalaimon changed from an ermine into a small parakeet. Like all the other people on the _Enterprise_, this woman had no daemon, yet appeared perfectly hale and hearty. As the woman worked, Lyra could hear her singing softly to herself, and Lyra longed to hear her actually speak.

As it turned out, Lyra did not have long to wait. After smiling at Lyra again, she turned her chair to face Captain Kirk. "Captain, the transporter room has just reported that Mrs. Coulter has finally beamed-off of the _Enterprise_."

"Thank you, Uhura," said Kirk. "And that, as they say, is that!"

Dr. McCoy went over to the captain's chair. He and Kirk looked over at the boy from the 20th century, who was still standing to the side of the turbolift, and then over at the girl from the alternate version of Earth, where people's souls walked beside them in animal-spirit form. She was now at the science station, talking with Mr. Spock.

"Again, I must offer my apologies, Lyra," said Spock. "Had I known that Pantalaimon was your _katra_; I would never have attempted physical contact."

"Go on, then," said Lyra, smiling. "I reckon if you hadn't tried to save Pan from Ozymandias and saw my thoughts; I might have been sent back with my . . . mother."

Lyra shivered at the thought, and Pan changed from the parakeet into a mouse at the mere thought of Mrs. Coulter.

"Fascinating," said Spock, raising his eyebrows.

"You know, Jim," said McCoy in a conspiratorial whisper. "I never thought that I would live to see the day when James Tiberius Kirk would meet a beautiful, exotic woman and want nothing whatsoever to do with her!"

"I would be lying if I said that I wasn't . . . interested . . . in Mrs. Coulter, Bones," said Kirk. "But to be frank, that _monkey_ of hers really gave me the creeps!"

Lyra stepped to the front of the bridge, standing to the side of the main viewer. The blue-green world of Cittagazze spun below them. Off to the side, Lyra could barely make out the Specter-infested _USS Volynov_, as it continued on its own endless fall around the planet. She turned to face Captain Kirk, and he nodded to her, indicating that she had this attention.

"What are you gonna do about your other ship?" said Lyra. "You en't just gonna let it sail around Cittagazze forever, are you?"

"Starfleet will send another ship to recover her," said Kirk. "One with a special First Contact team; probably Betazoids. If the Specters are intelligent, we may be able to communicate with them and persuade them to leave the _Volynov_ in peace."

"Good luck with _that_," said Will, speaking for the first time since he and Lyra arrived on the bridge. "The best thing to do with Specters is to find a way to kill 'em!" Any adult so much as comes within three meters of one of them will get sucked dry; Lyra and me seen it happen!"

Though Captain Kirk could understand Will's fear and anger, he told Will that for Starfleet, force was always the last resort. He told Will and Lyra about a being native to Janus IV that he had encountered not long ago called the 'Horta,' who at first seemed just as malevolent and inscrutable as the Specters now appeared to be. But that now, the Horta are part of the hundreds of species that make up the United Federation of Planets. And maybe someday, the Specters will be members as well.

In the end, all Will could do was sigh and shrug. Frankly, he was too worn out to argue the point. Who were these people that he and Lyra were going to live with for the rest of their lives? Apparently, Earth people had advanced a great deal since his time; and not just technologically. According to Dr. McCoy, 23rd century Earth was peaceful. There was no crime, racism, religious intolerance, poverty or any of the other ills that plagued Will's 20th century world. But how could these people be so naïve and oblivious to the clear danger posed by the Specters of Cittagazze? How many more Starfleet crewpersons would have to fall to the Specters before they 'got it?'

Now Spock informed Captain Kirk that the _Enterprise_ was ready to return home, and all 'non-essential' personnel were asked to leave the bridge.

The door to the turbolift closed behind Dr. McCoy and the children as they left for sickbay, the safest place in all Federation starships, to ride out the Light-Speed Breakaway Factor maneuver that would, hopefully, take them home.

Captain Kirk shook his head. "It's a shame that we are not able to just let Will go home through the window on Cittagazze to his own world and time."

"Aside from all Prime Directive considerations," said Spock. "Will Parry and Lyra Belacqua will be safer returning to the 23rd century with us. According to my study of Earth history; your world is about to enter a most interesting and traumatic period. Though Will seems to have survived Kahn Noonien Singh and the Eugenics Wars; there is much worse yet to come."

"Osama bin Laden," said Sulu, nodding soberly. "The Terror Wars started soon after Kahn and his minions left Earth."

"Colonel Philip Green," added Chekov. "The Third World War."

"Well unfortunately," said Uhura, rolling her eyes. "Will has already been exposed to Madonna. But it looks like we got here just in time to save him from Britney Spears."

"Who were they?" said Kirk.

"Trust me, captain," said Uhura. "You _really_ don't want to know!"

Kirk sighed. It was true that Will and Lyra would be better off coming back (forward?) with them to the 23rd century. There was no point putting this off any longer.

"All stations, report," said Captain Kirk.

"Course laid in, sir," said Chekov.

"Helm at ready, captain," added Sulu.

"Uhura, notify all decks for immediate departure . . . ."

Dr. McCoy adjusted the restraints holding Will Parry to the medical diagnostic bed as Nurse Chapel made sure Lyra and Pantalaimon, (who assumed the form of a turtle,) were secure also. Then, both Starfleet officers strapped themselves into acceleration couches that folded down from the bulkhead.

Will looked over at Lyra and smiled reassuringly. He would be with her; that was true. But he could not help but feel that he had let his mother down. The _Enterprise_ was about to depart from 1996; and when they arrived at their destination, it would be 2269. His mother would have been dead for more than 250 years.

As if reading his mind, Lyra smiled back, and said. "Look on the bright side, Will. When we get to where and _when_ we are going; _my_ mother will have been dead for centuries. She en't gonna be able to hurt us, or any other child, ever again!"

Now, Lt. Uhura's voice came over the intercom system ship wide. "Attention all hands: secure for Light-Speed Breakaway Factor maneuver to be initiated in ten; nine; eight . . . ."

Will looked over at Lyra. "Right. See you and Pan in 273 years!"

"Five; four; three . . . ." said Uhura over the intercom.

"Not if Pan and I see you first, Will," replied Lyra smiling.

"Remember, kids," said Dr. McCoy. "Steady, even breaths!"

Turtle-formed Pan closed himself inside his shell.

"One; Zero. Initiating."

_Chocks away!_ Thought Will. And he felt the _Enterprise_ accelerating into the future.


	8. Chapter 8

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 8**

Will Parry felt the _Enterprise_ accelerate for what seemed like forever, and then abruptly stop. That was all there was to it? It was no worse than riding a rollercoaster at an amusement park.

Pantalaimon peeked out of his shell. "Are we there, yet?"

"I think so," said Lyra. "We en't moving any more, so far as I can tell."

"Bridge to all stations," Uhura said over the intercom. "All stations: Status Report."

Dr. McCoy un-strapped himself from the acceleration couch and went over to the intercom. "Sickbay reporting. All personnel are well; all systems are go."

Nurse Chapel got out of her acceleration couch and helped Dr. McCoy un-strap Will and Lyra. When Lyra's harness was removed and she stood up, Pan took the form of a ferret and hopped on Lyra's shoulder.

"What year is this, now?" said Lyra.

"By your way of reckoning, this is 2269, AD," said Dr. McCoy. "But you two will learn how to use the Federation-wide Stardate system in no time."

"Now what, Dr. McCoy?" said Nurse Chapel.

"Well, the first thing I'll need to do is ask Uhura or M'Ress to contact Mr. Samuel T. Cogley at Starbase 11 for me. I'll need a good lawyer to help me apply for guardianship of Will and Lyra. I'll also want to contact my daughter, Joanna, on Centaurus IV, to let her know that . . . ."

The deck of the _Enterprise_ shook hard below their feet. Lyra gasped and grabbed the nearest bed to steady herself. Pan looked around frantically. Did they hit something?

A few seconds later, the _Enterprise_ shook again. Only this time, harder. Now, the lights dimmed, a pulsating alarm sounded and a bright red light flashed just above the entrance.

"Red alert!" came Uhura's voice over the intercom system. "Red Alert! The _Enterprise_ is under attack! This is not a drill. All hands to General Quarters!"

"STATUS REPORT!" said Captain Kirk.

"Main phaser targeting controls are heavily damaged, sir," said Chekov. "Phasers are off-line!"

"Shields are up and holding," said Spock. "The attacking vessel knew exactly where to hit us. That second volley was targeted to disable our photon torpedo launchers."

"We still have photon torpedoes?" said Kirk. "We can still direct their fire? Lock-on to our attacker and prepare to fire on my mark!"

"Aye, sir," said Chekov. "Unidentified hostile vessel is coming about at warp 4.2 for a second attack run. They are firing!"

Again, the _Enterprise_ shook under the bombardment.

"Captain," said Spock. "The unidentified vessel is attacking us with . . . phase cannon fire. No damage. Shields are holding at 96."

"Phase cannon?" said Kirk. "Uhura, open hailing frequencies."

"Aye, sir," said Uhura. "Hailing frequencies open on all channels. No response, sir."

"That's not exactly true, Lieutenant Uhura," said Chekov. "Tactical sensors detect six incoming projectiles . . . sir, they are . . . spatial torpedoes!"

"Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Sulu," said Kirk. "Mr. Chekov . . . fire!"

Two photon torpedoes launched from _Enterprise_. The first torpedo overwhelmed the unidentified attacker's shields; the second torpedo destroyed the attacking vessel.

"Bridge to engineering," said Kirk. "Scotty, how are you holding up down there?"

"The engines are holdin' fer now, sir," said Scotty. "But try an' go easy on 'em! No more than warp 4 maximum for the next thirty minutes or so. We just completed a 'slingshot maneuver!' My poor bairns need time ter cool down!"

"Damn it, Scotty! The slowest hostile is capable of warp 4.2! I need more power!"

"Sir, I canna change the laws of physics! I've got to have thirty minutes fer the engines to cool! Any warp factor higher than warp 4 and ye risk burnin' out our dilithium crystals!"

"Do what you can, Scotty. Bridge out!"

Now Spock added, "Sir, I am detecting 13 other vessels of similar configuration converging on our position from multiple vectors at warp 4.2. In addition, I am also detecting a significantly larger vessel on intercept vector, approaching at warp 6. Assuming similar weaponry on the other vessels, I estimate the first of the approaching hostiles will be within attack range in five minutes, thirty-seven seconds."

"Phase cannon? Spatial Torpedoes?" said Kirk. "What are we up against, Spock?"

Spock checked his scanner. "Captain, sensors indicate the majority of the approaching ships are similar in size and performance to Earth's early _NX-Class_ starships. Their main armament consists of phase cannon, spatial torpedoes and possibly photonic torpedoes. Defensive systems include polarized hull armor with some force field screens. I estimate their maximum performance to be within the warp 4 to 5 range."

"Could we have missed our target date?" said Kirk. "Could we have accidentally emerged in the 22nd century?"

"Negative, sir," said Chekov. "The computer has verified my initial temporal and spatial computations! We have arrived in 2269 on our assigned Earth-approach vector, approximately eight-point-two hours after our initial departure, as per our originally assigned flight-plan, sir!"

A familiar blue-green world showed on the main viewer. Kirk stood from his chair for a better look. From this distance, it looked right, however . . . . "Mr. Spock . . . is that world . . . _our_ Earth?"

"Initiating surface scans . . . negative, sir. It is Cittagazze," Spock looked up from his scanner. "This is the Cittagazze system in the year 2269. Captain, we have succeeded in traveling temporally, however, we have failed to travel spatially."

"I am tracking all incoming vessels now, sir," said Chekov. "The first one will be within photon torpedo range in one minute, seven seconds, sir. But, sir, we are down to eight photon torpedoes. And long-range tactical shows an additional six more vessels of similar _NX-type_ on intercept vector. The nearest of those vessels will arrive at our position in approximately forty-five minutes."

Kirk nodded. The math was not difficult. It would take _two_ photon torpedoes _minimum_ to destroy each of these ships. A total of fourteen ships would arrive in less than one minute, with six more reinforcements arriving within less than an hour. And for the moment, the _Enterprise_ had no phasers and was limited to warp 4.

"Captain," said Chekov. "The largest vessel is in range. Scans show they have deflector shields similar to our own. Should I lock photon torpedoes on target?"

"Get a lock, but hold your fire, for now," said Kirk. Put it on the screen." The approaching vessel appeared as a small dot. "Magnification five."

When the main viewer adjusted, a large red and gold zeppelin-shaped vessel appeared.

"Sir," said Uhura. "You are being hailed by name!"

Captain Kirk instructed Uhura to put it on visual as well as audio. On the main viewer, the zeppelin-shaped starship vanished and was replaced by a stern-looking man in a uniform, holding himself with the bearing of one in command. His head was cleanly shaven and he wore a moustache. Perched on the man's shoulder was a peregrine falcon.

Kirk also noticed that every crewperson in the background of the unidentified zeppelin-ship also had an animal close by. Some of the crew were wearing helmets of some kind, and their companion-animals were holding or biting on straps coming from their control consoles.

But Kirk knew these were not helper animals or pets.

They were _daemons_.

The man on the main viewer spoke. "You have been identified as the United Federation of Planets starship _USS Enterprise_. Captain James Tiberius Kirk, I presume?"

"Your information is correct," said Kirk. "Who do I have the honor of addressing?"

"I am Lord Commodore Nigel Stewart of the Magisterial Celestial Naval starcraft _Stelmaria_. You are intruding in Magisterium space, and are herby so ordered to lower your shields and power-down your weapons." The falcon on his shoulder flexed its wings and seemed to whisper something in Commodore Stewart's ear.

"Ah, yes Sheba. No, I had not forgotten." Commodore Stewart again addressed Kirk. "Captain, you should know that while I command the ships in this task force, there is one aboard who is in charge of the overall mission. As such, I am compelled to relinquish any further discussion to her."

Commodore Stewart stepped to one side, and Kirk saw a familiar-looking woman in her late 50's sitting in a large command chair behind the Commodore. The woman wore civilian clothing consisting of a stylish suit coat and skirt of grey pinstripe material. On each side of the woman, there were two formidable looking security guards, and after a moment, Kirk realized that they were Klingons!

What's more, like the human crewpersons of the _Stelmaria_, the Klingons were also accompanied by daemons, which were in the form of a fierce looking animal that Kirk did not recognize. Kirk then gave the bridge of the _Stelmaria_ another quick check. One of the crew was definitely Vulcan. And the animal by her side that Kirk had originally mistook for a small bear, he now realized was a sehlat, or rather, a sehlat-formed daemon.

Then, Captain Kirk recognized the woman in the command chair, as well as the golden monkey daemon sitting by her side. "Mrs. Marisa Coulter."

"It is _Dame_ Marisa Coulter now," she said in a cold, hard voice. "You have five minutes to bring my Lyra to the bridge of your ship that I may see her, Captain Kirk."

Captain Kirk was about to speak, when Dame Marisa cut him off. "Know that if you fail to comply in the time that I have allotted, I shall assume that you are _unable_ to comply, because my precious Lyra is dead. In which case, I shall order the annihilation of _Enterprise_ and all who are aboard her. Hurry now, captain. Your time is running out!" And the golden monkey balled his fists and bared his teeth.


	9. Chapter 9

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 9**

When Lyra and Will stepped out of turbolift, they could not believe their eyes. There, on the main viewer was Lyra's mother, Marisa Coulter. She looked older, possibly in her late 50's or early 60's, but it was unmistakably her. The golden monkey daemon beside her eliminated all doubts.

"Y-you're a witch!" said Lyra.

Dame Marisa Coulter smiled. "You just might think so, my darling Lyra. That _would _explain how I still draw breath nearly three hundred years from when you last saw me."

Dame Marisa rose gracefully from her command chair on the _Stelmaria's_ bridge. "Though this is not the case. Along with the aerospace technology we were able to obtain from Will's world in The Project's early stages, we were also able to learn the art of suspended animation. Lord Carlo Boreal was able to provide me with a stasis chamber left over from the sleeper-ship _SS Botany Bay_.

"Oh, Carlo's good friend, the Vice-President of the United States on Will's world, was most cooperative and helpful." Dame Marisa paused a moment to reminisce. "Carlo had obtained our chambers at great personal risk. You see, Richard had asked dear Carlo to accompany him on one of his infamous hunting trips. Fortunately, Carlo emerged unscathed."

Now Dame Marisa addressed Captain Kirk. "I was typically awake and active one year for every decade. The better to oversee The Project. Because only I had the skill to convince the Specters haunting the _USS Volynov_ to allow our practical theologians access to her secrets.

"Now, witness the result. In addition to the _Stelmaria_, flagship and pride of the Magisterium's Celestial Navy, you are completely surrounded by more than a dozen other vessels; and all phasers, phase cannon and spatial torpedoes are trained on your precious _Enterprise_. If you wish to avoid a confrontation that I will win, you will follow my instructions diligently.

"You will lower your deflector shields and open your hanger bay. In a few moments, three shuttlecraft will be dispatched from the _Stelmaria_. Two are heavily-armed military shuttles, each with a contingent of Klingon Marines accompanied by their targ daemons. I do strongly suggest that you and your crew give them no reason to demonstrate their formidable martial skills, captain. The third craft is my private shuttle. Yes, Captain Kirk, I am coming aboard personally.

"I will expect my daughter Lyra and her friend, Will Parry, to be waiting for us . . . ."

"NO!" said Lyra. "I'll go with you, but you must allow Will and the others to go free! Oh, you must!! Will has a sick mother in his own world and time who would _suffer_ without him! I'll go with you! I en't gonna be any more trouble for you! But please, oh, _please_ let Will and the others go free! Lyra fought back tears and Pantalaimon took the form of a little mouse, assuming a submissive posture.

"Oh, honey," said Dame Marisa. "I am so sorry to see you unhappy, my darling Lyra. But you must realize that I simply cannot allow the _Enterprise_ crew to return to their own world and their own time! Please try and understand, Lyra. Even after extensive study of the _Volynov_, our experimental theologians were unable to learn the secret of the time travel technique used by Starfleet. Ergo, if we let them go free, they will just return to their own time and draw up their plans to eliminate – 'retcon,' I believe they would say - our present status quo!

"No, Lyra. They will remain with us. I promise you, darling, that only the senior officers of the _Enterprise _shall be punished for crimes committed against the Magisterium. And as for your friend, Will Parry, I give you my solemn word that no harm whatsoever shall come to him . . . ."

"I bet that is what you told Roger, Tony, and all the other kids you stole and took to Bolvangar!" spat Lyra as Pan changed from a mouse into a ferret. "That no harm would come to them! I bet that's also what you told them just before you _severed _them from their daemons with your bloody silver guillotine!"

"You will watch your tone with me, young lady," replied Dame Marisa, her golden monkey shooting daggers from his eyes at Pan. "_I_ have no intention of harming your little friend. But, ultimately, _his_ well being shall depend upon how well _you_ are willing to cooperate with _me_!

"Tell me, Lyra: in your sporadic studies with the scholars of Jordan College, have any of them enlightened you about the quaint Brytish custom known as the 'whipping boy?'"

Lyra covered her mouth with her hands. Once again, Pan turned into a tiny mouse and scurried into Lyra's hair, trembling. Lyra had learned that in Mediaeval Brytain, it was forbidden to harm the children of nobility when they misbehaved. Because of this, the noble children were encouraged to befriend a servant's child, who would then be used to take the beating brought on by the noble child's misbehavior.

"Mind you, Lyra," said Dame Marisa. "I have no desire to see your precious Will harmed in any way. I promise to personally never raise my hand to him in anger. Though, if you positively insist on disobeying me, I shall have no alternative but to send Will away, temporarily of course, until you have learned the error and folly of your disobedience. The only question remaining would be; _where_ should I send Will during those times?

"Hmmm; I know! I think it would do Will good to spend some time with other boys his own age to play sports. And as it just so happens, many of our Klingon Marines have sons who are Will's age; and they do so enjoy athletic games . . . ."

For the first time in her life, Lyra Silvertongue was speechless. Since she had first met Will, she knew that he was a strong boy. She had seen him fight and felt safe with him. But when Lyra saw the fierce looking Klingon Marines and their targ daemons flanking her mother's chair on the _Stelmaria's_ bridge, her heart froze with fear for Will's safety. Lyra had never seen a Klingon or a targ before now, and these hard-looking people were adults. Nevertheless, when she tried to imagine twelve-year-old versions of these beings and Will all alone amongst them . . . ."

Will put his hand on Lyra's shoulder. "Its alright, Lyra. I'll go with you; I won't leave you."

"No, Will! Your mother . . . ."

"Lyra, my mother is _dead_." Will put his hands gently on the sides of Lyra's face as Pan, still in mouse form, moved out of the way. "Listen to me: your mother will not let us go back to 1996. _This is 2269!_ My mother is dead. My father is dead. So is Mrs. Cooper. So is Dr. Malone. They all died over two-hundred years ago. I can't protect my mother any more. But I can protect you."

"Oh, Will . . . ."

Lyra thought of her friend being forced to play rugby, lacrosse or some other, more violent alien sport with these beings, who made the Tartars and Muscovites of her own world look gentle by comparison. She tried to block out images of Will being beaten and battered in the course of violent play with the rougher looking Klingon boys . . . . _NO!_

Lyra would not let that happen!

Lyra looked up at her mother's triumphant face on the main viewer. "You win," said Lyra, sobbing. "I promise not to disobey you, ever! You will never have to tell me anything twice! I . . . I will do as you tell me . . . _mother_!"

Dame Marisa smiled and her golden monkey folded his arms in satisfaction. "There now," said Dame Marisa softly. "Was that _really_ so difficult, Lyra? It took centuries, but now, we can finally be together as mother and daughter!"

Tears flowed softly down Lyra's cheeks as she and Will held each other. Gently, Will kissed her cheek. "It's alright, Lyra. I won't ever leave you . . . ."

It was all Dame Marisa Coulter could do to keep her expression neutral, though Ozymandias was snarling at the disgusting display on the _Stelmaria's_ main viewer. Dame Marisa did not like the fact that her Lyra was being held in the arms of a daemonless other-universal (it was bad enough that Will Parry was a commoner!)

But, for the moment, Will Parry was the key to ensuring Lyra's cooperation. Lyra liked the boy, and to protect him, she would think twice before disobeying her mother.

But care would have to be taken. Lyra and Will were rapidly approaching puberty. Soon, Pantalaimon would settle, and Lyra and Will would see each other in a different way. Of course, Lyra and Will could not be left alone together for even a moment. They would have to be chaperoned at all times. The last thing Dame Marisa needed now in her career would be the scandal of a grandchild sired by a daemonless other-universal commoner!

Of course, ultimately, Will Parry would only be a brief threat to Dame Marisa's grand plans . . . .

In The Project's early stages, engineers were brought over from Will's world, some willingly, some not so, to assist with the Magisterium's space program. These people, along with crates of unclassified technical aerospace data (mostly obtained by one Sir Charles Latrom, CBE,) enabled the Magisterium to extend their reach into space.

First, dozens of rivet-per-rivet copies of the infamous A-4/V-2 rocket of Will's world were built, to give the practical theologians of the Prime World basic rocketry experience. Then, with the assistance of the aerospace engineers from Will's world (and the highly skilled metallurgists native to Cittagazze,) the old _Project Gemini_ program first conceived by the United States of Will's world was reborn.

But unlike the Americans of Will's world, the Magisterium had grander plans than making ". . . one small step," on the moon of the Prime World. What were 'flags and footprints' on a dead world compared to the secrets of a 23rd century starship? And such a vessel was orbiting Cittagazze, just waiting to be boarded and studied by the best practical and experimental theologians the Prime World could produce.

Less than twenty years since The Project began, the United Federation of Planets starship, _USS Volynov_, NCC-1803, was reached by a Cittagazze-built 'Big Gemini' in Prime World Magisterial livery. Accompanying Mrs. Marisa Coulter (soon to be known as '_Dame_ Marisa Coulter,') were twenty Gyptian "oblates;" an offering for the ravenous Specters stalking the corridors of the _Volynov_.

Thus convinced that Mrs. Coulter could provide them with far more nourishment if they _cooperated_ with her than if they simply _consumed_ her; the Specters returned with her to Cittagazze, leaving the now truly uninhabited _Volynov_ wide open for study. The Project could now begin in earnest. The first order of business would be to develop warp drive in preparation for the arrival of the _USS Enterprise_ (and inevitable confrontation with Captain Kirk,) some 255 years later.

When the Prime World's experimental theologians told Dame Marisa that it would be impossible to reverse-engineer warp drive with their current level of technology; the decision was made to develop it from scratch. And from the library computer on the _Volynov_; Dame Marisa knew exactly who from Will's world would be needed.

And on April 5, 2063, just before 11 am, the experimental warp ship _Phoenix_, piloted by its inventor, Zefram Cochrane, and his assistant, Lily Sloane, was tested in the Prime World universe with Dame Marisa on board as official Magisterial observer.

Later that evening, Dame Marisa Coulter and the officers of the Magisterium received the captain of the Vulcan ship _T'Plana-Hath_, who was accompanied by his _katra_ T'Pau, who held the form of a magnificent green and gold _le-matya_.

By that time, all of The Project's practical and experimental theologians were Prime World natives. There was little left for the engineers from Will's war-shattered, dying world to contribute to The Project, anymore. Besides, their value was always severely limited by the hard realities of being transplanted outside of the universe of one's birth.

So, in the long run, Lyra's little boyfriend would only pose a brief threat to the honor of the House of Coulter. Dame Marisa knew that within a few years of relocating to the Prime World, poor Will Parry would soon become chronically ill, suffering horribly more and more each day, until he died, probably before his 21st birthday . . . .

"Now, Captain Kirk," said Dame Marisa. "I believe Commodore Stewart has already instructed you to lower your shields and power-down your weapons." She rose from her command chair and her golden monkey leapt onto her shoulder. "You will also follow my instructions and proceed to your shuttlecraft hanger bay with my precious Lyra and her friend, Will, where you will receive me when you relinquish control of the _Enterprise_ to the Magisterium. You have fifteen minutes while my personal shuttle is prepared."

Dame Marisa turned her attention back to Lyra. "We shall soon be reunited, my precious daughter. Do see that you remember your promise to obey me without hesitation."

"Remember your promise, too, mother," replied Lyra firmly, as Pan changed from a mouse into a ferret. "I do as I am told and Will en't gonna be harmed!" On the main viewer, Dame Marisa responded to Lyra with a barely perceptible nod of her head. Then Lyra took Will's hand and the children followed Dr. McCoy into the turbolift, where they waited for Captain Kirk to join them.

"Mr. Chekov," said Captain Kirk. "Lower the shields and power down phasers and photon torpedo launchers."

"Aye, sir. Shields and weapons are now off line, captain."

"Mr. Sulu, you have the bridge," said Kirk. "Mr. Spock, you're with me."

"Understood, captain," said Spock as he joined Kirk, McCoy and the children.

As soon as the doors closed, Captain Kirk took the control handle and said, "Auxiliary Control," and the turbolift began to move.


	10. Chapter 10

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 10**

"We are not going to the hanger bay," said Dr. McCoy soberly. It was a statement, not a question. McCoy had served too long on the _Enterprise_ to not know what Captain Kirk had in mind. That was the reason Kirk had asked Spock to join them; three executive officers were required for what Dr. McCoy knew Captain Kirk was planning.

Dr. McCoy looked over at Will and Lyra. They were still holding hands.

"Don't worry, Lyra, "said Will. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I en't gonna let anything happen to you, either, Will," said Lyra firmly as Pantalaimon changed from a ferret into a mongoose. "I swear, if any of those Klingon kids so much as lays a hand on you; it will be me and Pan they'll answer to!" Then, Lyra hugged Will hard and kissed him on his cheek. "You are very brave, Will Parry. Thank you for protecting me all this time; but now, it looks like it's my turn to protect you."

Even though Dr. McCoy had joined Starfleet in the aftermath of a messy, bitter divorce, he had joined with eyes wide open. He knew the risks that came with space travel. During the past five years he had served as CMO of the _USS Enterprise_, he had seen his share of death, in addition to escaping death himself on more than one occasion.

But Will Parry and Lyra Belacqua were just children! And now, their young lives were about to be snuffed out in a seething matter/anti-matter fireball. If they were lucky. Thrown, unprotected, into the hard vacuum of space if they were not.

The turbolift stopped and the door opened directly to Auxiliary Control. Captain Kirk immediately went over to a control station off to the side; activating what Dr. McCoy recognized as a training simulation display.

"Will, Lyra," said Kirk. "Please come over here." Still holding hands, the children came over to the console. When they sat in the chairs in front of the console, Kirk pointed to the display screens. "We're not going down without a fight, kids, and I'll need your help at this station."

"Go on, then," said Lyra, fiercely. Pan, still in mongoose form, bared his teeth. "We're gonna fight me mum's ships, en't we?"

"I have a . . . surprise . . . planned for Dame Marisa," said Kirk, distantly. "Let's just say, they won't know what hit them."

"It's just like Captain Peter Quincy Taggart says all the time on '_Galaxy Quest_,'" said Will. "'Never give up! Never surrender!' Right; what do you want Lyra and me to do?"

"Just watch these readouts" said Kirk soberly. "Don't take your eyes off of them for even a second! Let us know the moment any of these readouts start to redline!"

With the children focused on the readouts, Kirk went over to join Spock and McCoy at the main console. But first, Kirk went to the weapons locker and removed a Type-3 phaser rifle. He held it low, behind the console, and set the weapon for heavy stun.

When Kirk looked at the console, he saw that Spock had already accessed the destruct sequence screen. The three Starfleet officers would need to enter their individual destruct authorizations verbally. But first, there was one unenviable task that Kirk needed to do.

Kirk would not ask Dr. McCoy to sedate Will and Lyra; and as for Spock, Kirk could not be certain that a Vulcan nerve-pinch would even work on Lyra and Pantalaimon. And anyway, as captain of the _Enterprise_, this was his task, and his alone.

Captain Kirk looked at Will and Lyra, who were diligently monitoring the screens in front of them. Kirk wanted to stun the children when their backs were turned, but that could prove difficult in practice. Although Will and Lyra were giving the screens their full attention, Pantalaimon, the proverbial eyes in the back of Lyra's head, kept glancing back at Kirk and the others.

"Tactical," said Kirk, as much to stall for time as to see their situation. "On main viewer."

When the image appeared, Spock said. "Interesting, captain. The _Stelmaria_ and the other Magisterial ships are all between one and five hundred meters from the _Enterprise_."

"Good for us," said Kirk dryly. "Bad for them. Very bad for them . . . ."

"We're gonna use the ship's big phasers, then?" said Will. "If they're that close, exact targeting won't matter, right?"

"Mr. Parry," said Kirk. "I thought I told you and Lyra to pay attention to the readouts! Let me and my officers worry about planning our counter attack!"

Then Lyra gasped. Did she know what Kirk had planned?

"What is it, Lyra?" said Will. "Have your readouts changed?"

Before Kirk could say anything, Lyra swiveled her chair to face him, holding her Alethiometer. "I could ask the Alethiometer what we should do! Oh, please let me, Captain Kirk!"

"Brilliant!" said Will. "Please, captain! If there is a way out of this sticky mess, Lyra is the one to find it!"

Captain Kirk considered his options. He did not want to destroy the _Enterprise_, if he could avoid it, but he would not let his ship fall intact into the hands of Dame Marisa Coulter and the Magisterium. "Alright, Lyra. See if there is a way out for us."

Lyra took a deep breath, and then she adjusted the three knobs before slipping into her alethiometric trance. A few moments later, Lyra opened her eyes.

"We must escape to 1996," said Lyra.

"And, just how do you propose we do that, Lyra," said Kirk, pointing to the tactical display on the main viewer. "The _Stelmaria_, your mother's ship, is two hundred meters directly off our bow. The other ships have us surrounded."

"Move the _Stelmaria_ out of the way," said Lyra, as though it were obvious.

Kirk was about to ask Lyra what she meant when Spock said, "Captain, I believe we _can_ take control of the _Stelmaria_."

"What do you mean, Spock? How?"

"I have scanned the Magisterial flagship," said Spock. "Many of _Stelmaria's_ components appear to have been taken, unmodified, directly from the _Volynov_. The phaser emitters, the transporters, the photon torpedo launchers, the deflector and sensor arrays . . . and the main computer core."

"Spock," said Kirk, smiling. "Do you remember the prefix-codes for the _Volynov_?"

"I do, indeed, captain."

Kirk smiled. "Everyone back in the turbolift!"

"Uh, Captain Kirk?" said Will. "What's the phaser assault-rifle for?"

Kirk suddenly realized he still had the Type-3 phaser. "Well, you never know . . . if you . . . might have to deal with, uh, a boarding party . . . in situations like this."

Kirk replaced the phaser rifle in the weapons locker and the three Starfleet officers and the two children stepped into the turbolift to return to the main bridge.

Dame Marisa Coulter was furious. "What is the meaning of this delay, Captain Kirk? My shuttle is ready! You are to meet me with my daughter in your hanger deck now! You are warned: any attempts to stall will be met with severe punishment!"

Captain Kirk was sitting in his command chair. Spock and Sulu were back at their stations and Lyra and Will stood with Dr. McCoy by the bridge turbolift.

"I'm going to make you a counter-proposal, Mrs. Coulter," said Kirk. "Move that piece of reversed-engineered junk out of our way, or we will do it for you. Mr. Chekov; raise our shields!"

"LYRA!" pleaded Dame Marisa. "You don't belong with these daemonless creatures! You'll die if you stay with them! Please come over to the _Stelmaria_ with me! I'll allow Will and the others to go free, but you must come back to me!"

"I en't goin' anywhere with you, you evil, cruel _bitch_!" said Lyra. Pan, in mongoose form, sneered at the golden monkey. "And I en't listening to your filthy lies!"

"No, it's the truth!" said Dame Marisa. "And I can prove it to you, if you just let me! The people we brought over from Will's world to help with The Project . . . ."

"As _slaves_, mother?" said Lyra.

"Yes, some of them . . . as slaves. But many more came willingly . . . oh, Lyra, it does not matter _how_ we know; only _that_ we know. Oh, my dear Lyra, you must come back! Please Lyra! If not for yourself, do it for Will Parry! We will make Captain Kirk take Will back home to care for his mother, and he can be healthy! Will doesn't have to die!"

"NO!" said Lyra. I don't believe anything _you_ say!"

"Captain Kirk," said Dame Marisa. "Lyra is my daughter! My own flesh and blood!" She spread her arms wide. "I did all this so Lyra and I could be reunited as mother and daughter!

"Do you know what it feels like, Captain James Kirk, to be forced to be apart from your child? Would you not do anything in your power to fight such an injustice?"

Captain Kirk stared hard at Dame Marisa, but did not respond. Did she know? Did she have an Alethiometrist working for her? _David would be six about now . . . ._

"It's over, Dame Marisa," said Lyra firmly, without any affection. "Let us pass!"

"So be it, Lyra," spat Dame Marisa. "If you insist on staying with these daemonless creatures, you are signing your own death warrant. A person cannot live more than ten years away from the universe of their nativity! As you insist on suicide, Lyra; you shall taste death now! Commodore Stewart! Destroy the _Enterprise_!"

"With respect, Dame Marisa," said Commodore Stewart. "We should try to take _Enterprise_ intact! There is much we could learn . . . ."

"YOU HAVE YOUR ORDERS, COMMODORE," said Dame Marisa. The golden monkey snarled at the peregrine falcon. "DESTROY THE _ENTERPRISE_ NOW!!"

"Mr. Spock," said Captain Kirk. "Now would be a good time . . . ."

"Executed, captain," replied Spock.

On the _Stelmaria_, Commodore Stewart said, "Mr. Bagdasarian, lock all weapons on the _Enterprise_ and fire!"

The young weapons officer on the _Stelmaria_ stared firmly at his control panel. Next to him, his chipmunk daemon gripped the strap attached to the console with a look of hard concentration.

"Mr. Bagdasarian, I gave you an order!"

"W-weapons are not responding, Commodore! Intention controls are off line!"

"Go to manual!"

"Manual controls do not respond, either, Commodore!"

Now the _Stelmaria's_ helmsman reported, "Commodore, helm does not respond to either intention or manual inputs. We are adrift."

Just as the helmsman delivered his report, his goose daemon squawked, dropping the input strap from her beak. She found herself floating away from the deck. Quickly, the helmsman grabbed her and held her tightly with one arm while grasping his now otherwise useless control console with his free hand to keep from drifting about the bridge. Looking about, he saw his fellow messmates and crew doing the same, or trying to, as they and their daemons began to float helplessly about the _Stelmaria's_ bridge.

"DAMN YOU TO HELL, CAPTAIN KIRK!" screamed Dame Marisa Coulter as she and her golden monkey began to float from her command chair, tumbling in free fall.

"Mr. Spock," said Kirk. "Is there _anything_ you would like to tell me?"

"Captain, your instructions were quite specific," said the Vulcan as he raised his eyebrows. "'Take all systems on the _Stelmaria_ off line, except for life support and communications.' I believe that the word 'all' would include artificial gravity."

Suddenly Lyra shrieked with delight. Swiftly, she moved behind Will, covering his eyes with both of her hands.

"_Hey!_" said Will.

"Don't look, Will!" said Lyra as Pan changed from a mongoose into a scruffy-looking tomcat. "_'Dame Marisa'_ en't wearin' any _unmentionables_!"

"Uhura!" said Captain Kirk. Immediately, the communication's officer changed the image on the main viewer from the _Stelmaria's_ bridge to an external view. Now on the screen, the _Stelmaria_ was drifting out of the _Enterprise's_ way.

"Well," said Kirk smiling. "That was more than I wanted to see!"

Lyra removed her hands from Will's eyes. Both children were giggling now.

"Thanks, Lyra," said Will smiling from ear to ear. "I really owe you one! I could have been scarred for life!"

"Lyra," said Captain Kirk. "I didn't know that your mother was a Special Forces commander!"

Spock raised his eyebrow. "I believe the ancient phrase you are attempting to cite, captain, is: 'Going Commando.'"

Captain Kirk felt the _Enterprise_ vibrate beneath his feet as Magisterial plasma pounded Federation deflector shields. "Status report; all stations."

"Sir," said Chekov. "The other Magisterial vessels are firing on _Enterprise_. Phase cannon only. They are too close to use their spatial torpedoes, sir."

"Captain," said Spock. "Shields are holding at 93 under Magisterial bombardment. At the current intensity, I estimate one hour, twenty-two minutes and sixteen-seconds before our shields are in any danger of depleting significantly, sir."

Kirk nodded and activated the intercom on his command chair. "Bridge to engineering. Status report, please."

"Scott here, sir. The engines are back to 98 efficiency. I presume we will be makin' yet another 'Slingshot Maneuver,' sir?"

"You presume correctly, Scotty!"

By the turbolift, Will and Lyra hugged each other as Pantalaimon, now in the form of a butterfly, circled happily around them.


	11. Chapter 11

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 11**

Captain's Log, Supplemental: The _Enterprise_ has successfully returned to 1996 and is currently in standard orbit of Cittagazze. The _USS Volynov_ is there as well, right where we left her. Lieutenant Commander Scott has informed me that the engines check out and are good for another attempt to return to our correct time and universe.

Will Parry suggested that there may be a 'window' in space, similar to those made by his Subtle Knife, and that the _Enterprise_ and the _Volynov_ both passed through during our Light-Speed Breakaway Factor attempts. Although this sounds likely, we have thus far been unable to locate any spatial interphasic rifts using our scanners.

As for the _USS Volynov_; it is with deepest regret that I have decided to send her on a collision course with Cittagazze's sun just before we leave for home, thus denying Mrs. Coulter and her world access to 23rd century Starfleet technology.

"You know where the anomaly is?" said Captain Kirk.

"Yes," said Lyra. She stood on the bridge by Captain Kirk's chair, Will stood by her side, holding her hand. Pantalaimon changed from a ferret into a black rat with red eyes.

"How?" said Kirk. Then a thought came to him. "You asked your Alethiometer?"

"Yes."

"Why have our sensors been unable to detect the anomaly?" said Spock.

"Because it doesn't stay in one place," said Will.

"It's going around Cittagazze, just like we are," said Lyra. "Y-you en't never gonna find it on your own. Not in a hundred years. Not unless we tell you."

"And . . . why wouldn't you tell us, Lyra?" said Kirk.

"Because the Alethiometer told us not to tell you," said Lyra. "N-not until you promise to let us go home!" Pan became a ferret again.

"Lyra," said Spock. "Prior to our previous attempt to return to our proper location in the space-time continuum; you informed Will that both of you had to return with us to the 23rd century. What variables have since changed?"

"Dunno," said Lyra. "But now my Alethiometer says we have to go back so I can help Will find his father."

"Will," said Kirk. "The main reason we are not able to allow you to return to 1996 is the effect _your_ knowledge of the future may have on _our _present. And not just because you and Lyra are children." Kirk knew that if he were thrust into 1996, he might just find it difficult to keep from making a telephone call on September 10, 2001, for example.

"But there is a way to send us back so Lyra and I don't remember, Captain Kirk," said Will firmly but respectfully. "You used it the first time this happened, right? You were able to send Captain John Christopher and a U.S. Air Force Staff Sergeant back to their proper place and time. Why can't you do that for Lyra and me?"

"Didn't Lyra's Alethiometer tell you why not?"

"W-we didn't use the Alethiometer," said Will, hanging his head in shame. "I checked the _Enterprise's_ library computer . . . from Dr. McCoy's terminal."

"That is classified information, Mr. Parry," said Kirk. "How were you able to . . . ?"

"Blame me, Jim," said Dr. McCoy, who just stepped out of the bridge turbolift. "I just checked my computer terminal. Early this morning, I was doing some research and I stepped out for a moment to get some coffee at the mess hall, but I didn't lock my terminal. I, uh, thought Will was sleeping."

"The point is; there _is a way_ to send us back so as we forget everything that happened on the _Enterprise_, right?" said Lyra. "You en't gonna break your 'Prime Directive' if you send Will and me back then."

"This isn't just about the Prime Directive, Lyra," said Kirk. "I'm not proud of it, but I _violated_ the Prime Directive when I told your biological mother that I would not release you into her custody. There is no 'child-abuse exception' to the Prime Directive, but I made a judgment call in this case. To paraphrase an old Earth proverb: I would rather be '. . . judged by twelve that see you carried by six.'"

"Captain," said Spock. "A Starfleet Court Martial does not utilize a twelve-member jury; rather, no fewer than three officers of flag rank are chosen to serve as judges. In addition, as we are unfamiliar with the funerary customs of Lyra's people; it may be unlikely that she would understand the reference to being 'carried by six . . . .'"

"Mr. Spock, I think we can postpone the xeno-anthropology lesson for later."

"Of course, captain."

"What I was going to say, Lyra," continued Kirk. "Is that we _considered_ sending you and Will back the way we did for Captain Christopher. However, Dr. McCoy has informed me that if we use this technique to send you two back to the exact time we first beamed you up to the _Enterprise_; it is certain that you will be dead within hours."

"W-what do you mean?" said Lyra.

"May I use the main viewer?" said McCoy. Kirk nodded and McCoy continued. "Computer: Display medical records for Lyra Belacqua on the main bridge viewer."

WORKING said the computer. A moment later, the curve of Cittagazze vanished from the main bridge viewer and was replaced by a highly magnified image of rapidly dividing bacteria.

"Initially, I thought that Lyra was only suffering from a severe case of transporter shock," said Dr. McCoy. "I know that it's all I can do not to toss my cookies whenever my atoms get sliced and diced by that damn thing! But, in addition to transporter shock, Lyra was suffering from a highly aggressive case of food poisoning."

"Those _things_ were in _me_?" said Lyra, crinkling her nose in disgust at the image on the main viewer as Pan changed into a small mouse and snuggled close to Lyra.

"They _were_ in you, Lyra," replied Dr. McCoy. "But don't worry, they're all gone now. Remember that injection I gave you when you and Will first came to sickbay?"

"Yeah?"

"The antibiotics I gave you as a matter of procedure eliminated the infection."

Spock studied the image on the viewer. "Interesting. This pathogen seems to have some similarities with salmonella; however, it does not appear to be native to 20th century Earth."

"It isn't, Spock," said Dr. McCoy. "I checked. And since Lyra displayed no natural resistance at all to the pathogen; I doubt it is native to her world, either. According to the medical computer, this bug's incubation period is two to three days; so I'm guessing it's something she picked up on Cittagazze."

"Hang on," said Will. "Lyra and I ate the same things when we were on Cittagazze."

"No, Will," said Lyra. "Remember? I had some bread that I found when me and Pan first got to Cittagazze. In the house we first met you." Mouse Pan nodded in agreement.

"That wouldn't be the cause of your infection, Lyra," said Dr. McCoy. "This type of pathogen could not survive the baking process. Thorough cooking would kill the bacteria." McCoy thought for a moment. "On our 20th century Earth, salmonella was a common contamination in eggs . . . ."

"The omelette I made for us!" said Will, suddenly feeling guilty. "B-but I cooked it thoroughly! I _know_ how to cook! I've been cooking since I was eight-years-old! And Lyra and I both shared the omelette. How come I didn't get sick, too?"

Lyra put her hand gently on Will's shoulder. "Because you didn't eat any omelette before it was cooked! Oh, Will, I was so hungry! I just wanted a taste!" Pantalaimon changed from a mouse into a white ermine and looked at Will as if to say it wasn't Will's fault that Lyra got sick.

"It's alright, Lyra," said Will. "The important thing is that you're safe now."

"But Lyra _won't _be safe if we beam you both back to Cittagazze at the exact moment we originally beamed you aboard the _Enterprise_," said Dr. McCoy. "Jim, at the time we first beamed the kids up, Lyra was starting to become symptomatic. If we return her to that point, she would only have a few hours at most before she became violently ill!"

"I would take her back to my world, then," said Will. "There are clinics I could take her to for penicillin or something. That would make her better."

"No, Will, it wouldn't," said Dr. McCoy. "According to my medical computer, the Cittagazze pathogen infecting Lyra is resistant to antibiotics available on our 20th century Earth. And, Will, you would start bleeding again."

"Then beam us back the moment after you first brought us aboard," said Will. "I promise I won't tell anyone about the 23rd century! I swear!"

"That's out of the question, Will," said Captain Kirk. "I already told you, we can't risk any contamination to our timeline."

"We have to go back to our time so we can find Will's father," said Lyra. The edge was back in Lyra's voice and Pan changed from a white ermine into a ferret. "The Alethiometer said that Will and me have to do this to fix what is wrong with the universe. If we don't, the Alethiometer said the universe itself will die!"

Before anyone could comment, Lyra rounded on Spock. "My Alethiometer also said that if you want proof, you should 'compare the ecosystem of Cittagazze as it is now to how it was in the 23rd century, when we got away from my mother's space ship fleet!' Go on, then. How was Cittagazze different 273 years in the future?"

"Captain," said Spock. "Since Dr. McCoy has finished with his presentation; I would like to avail myself of the main viewer to illustrate my findings."

"By all means, Spock."

Spock divided the screen in two segments. The left half showed Cittagazze circa 1996; the right showed the planet 273 years later when they engaged the Magisterium's Celestial Navy.

"The Cittagazze of the 23rd century appears to be more desert-like in appearance," said Kirk, pointing to the right hand side of the screen. "Mrs. Coulter and her cronies must have destroyed the planet's ecosystem in their mad rush for advanced technology so the Magisterium could present a credible threat to the _Enterprise_."

"That was my initial hypothesis as well, captain," replied Spock. "However, a more detailed analysis of the data that I was able to download from the _Stelmaria's_ computer indicates that the runaway deforestation on Cittagazze is effecting all worlds known to what Mrs. Coulter refers to as 'The Prime World.'"

Spock went through several more screens showing the mass-extinction of plant life on Cittagazze, along with a reduction in more advanced life forms. "If this trend continues unabated at the present rate," said Spock. "I estimate that all life as we know it will be extinct from the universe by the early 25th century."

"Why is this happening, Spock," said Dr. McCoy. "If it isn't poor planetary stewardship, then what is causing the universe to just . . . die?"

"Insufficient data," replied Spock.

"It's Dust!" said Lyra. "If Will and I en't able to do whatever it is we are supposed to do, here in 1996, the universe will die because . . . the _Dust_ is going away!"

"Lyra," said Captain Kirk. What we experienced was an _alternate_ time line during our previous attempt to return to our correct time and place. Let me assure you that Earth and the other worlds making up the Federation are alive and well in the 23rd century."

"_Because Lyra and I were able to do what we are supposed to do back in 1996!"_ said Will firmly. "It must have something to do with finding my father! He must know what needs to be done to protect the Dust and Lyra and I have to help him do it!"

"My Alethiometer is not wrong, Captain Kirk," added Lyra. "It got us safely this far! Please let me ask it if there is a way for you to let us go back without me getting sick, Will bleeding to death, and neither of us remembering anything that could effect your timeline!"

With no objections raised, Lyra took out her Alethiometer. When she emerged from her Alethiometric trance, she said, "Beam us back to Cittagazze, but take the poison from my body when you beam us down." Then Lyra smiled at Will. And don't worry about Will's hand. He'll be alright. Will has me and Pan to look after him. We'll make sure Will is bandaged up good and tight 'till he heals up proper!"

"Take the . . . poison . . . from your body . . . ?" said Kirk. "Just how does your Alethiometer propose we do this, Lyra?"

"Captain," said Spock. "It is theoretically possible to remove harmful pathogens from people being transported. According to the refit specifications for the _Enterprise_, one of the planned upgrades to the transporter is a modification to the pattern buffer called a 'biofilter.' With this upgrade, it will be possible to remove the bacteria from Lyra as she is being transported. Indeed, the _Volynov's _transporter served as a field test for this upgrade."

Dr. McCoy shook his head in disbelief. "Using that blasted contraption as a _medical instrument_? Of all the harebrained . . . ."

Captain Kirk activated the intercom. "Bridge to engineering."

"Scott here, Captain. If yer callin' about the engines, dinna worry. My bairns are at 98 efficiency and are ready for another try for home, sir."

"Actually, Scotty, I need some work done on the transporter . . . ."

"Biofilters? Aye, I read all about them a few years ago in my technical journals, but I will nae be able ter fabricate the modification fer _Enterprise_ with just the basic data at hand."

"Will somebody please tell me why the hell _Enterprise_ doesn't have biofilters already?" said Kirk.

"Well, sir," said Scotty. "Starfleet only began installing biofilters on starships just this past year, and with _Enterprise_ scheduled for a full refit, there did nae seem ter be much point in pullin' us away from our mission an' routin' us ter the nearest spacedock just fer that one single upgrade."

Captain Kirk nodded. Biofilters would solve the problem of safely returning Lyra and Will back to Cittagazze. But Kirk could just imagine himself railing against any bureaucratic desk-riding dunsel at Starfleet Headquarters who even went so far as to suggest that the _Enterprise_ be pulled away from patrol and exploration duties for a simple upgrade; especially with a full refit scheduled at the end of their current assignment.

"But fortunately," continued Scotty. "We have a working example of the new biofilter on the _Volynov_ . . . ."

"Scotty, the Specters would be on you the second you beamed aboard," said Kirk.

"Aye, captain, but if I were ter beam over wi' a personal force-field generator _and_ wearin' a full EVA suit; that should protect me from those beasties! I'll carry a phaser rifle wi me as well!"

"You mean a spacesuit?" said Will. "I don't think that will protect you, sir."

When Lyra looked at him with a puzzled expression, Will told her that a spacesuit was like a suit of armor that astronauts wore to protect them from the harsh environment of space, including vacuum, extreme temperatures, and hard radiation.

"That is inadvisable, Mr. Scott," said Spock. "According to information I was able to obtain from the _Volynov_, the internal defensive force field network was unable to deny the Specters mobility throughout the ship. In addition, phasers proved ineffective against the Specters on the surface of Cittagazze and aboard the _Volynov_."

"The only thing the Specters are afraid of," said Will. "Is my knife. But only if I wield it myself. I'm the True Bearer; it won't work if I just give it to you."

"Out of the question, Will," said Kirk. "The _Volynov_ is no place for children!"

"The _Volynov_ en't no place for _adults_," corrected Lyra. "We dunno why, but Specters don't harm children. Will and me will be safer there than anyone else on the _Enterprise_!"

"The only problem is," said Will. I won't be able to see the Specters to drive them away. We don't know why, but adults can see Specters; children can't. Mr. Scott will have to let me know where they are and I'll keep him safe while he gets what we need."

"How will you be able to remove the parts we need from the transporter room and show Will where the Specters are?" said Kirk.

"I may not have ter do any tinkerin' if the _Volynov_ carries a spare biofilter assembly," said Scotty. "Computer . . . ."

WORKING said the computer.

"Access the _Volynov's_ manifest," said Scotty. "Does the _Volynov_ carry a spare biofilter assembly?"

WORKING . . . AFFIRMATIVE. SPARE BIOFILTER ASSEMBLY IS LOCATED ABOARD _USS VOLYNOV_ IN SHIP'S STORES.

"And is this hardware compatible with all current equipment aboard the _Enterprise_?"

WORKING . . . AFFIRMATIVE.

"Computer; transfer all files and technical data concerning said biofilters to Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott's station aboard _Enterprise_."

WORKING . . . ALL DATA ON BIOFILTER INSTALLATION DOWNLOADED TO _ENTERPRISE_.

"Well, captain," said Scotty. "I guess Will and I best be getting' ready ter go get th' hardware so we can all go home!"

Because the Specters could be familiar with transporters, Captain Kirk was reluctant to use them and suggested using a shuttlecraft instead. But Scotty suggested using both. He and Will could safely beam directly to where the spare biofilter assembly was kept, and then use one of the _Volynov's _own shuttlecraft for the return trip. That way, they would only have to run the gauntlet of Specters once, on their way to the hanger bay.

In addition, this would also allow Lt. Kyle and his crew to begin work on the transporter as soon as Scotty and Will beamed to the _Volynov_ so the biofilter hardware could be installed as soon as they came back. The computer stated that all four Shuttlecraft aboard the _Volynov_ were ready, and on standby.

Scotty stood on the transporter platform, waiting for Will Parry to join him. The boy from 20th century Second Elizabethan England was hugging the girl from the parallel version of Earth, where people's souls walked along side of them in animal-spirit form.

"I wish I could come with you, Will," said Lyra as Pantalaimon took the form of a white ermine sitting on her left shoulder. Lyra kissed Will gently on his cheek. "But I need to help Mr. Spock find the window in space so we can all get back safely. And you see to it that you get back from the _Volynov_ safely yourself, Will Parry!"

"I shall come back," said Will. "No Specter is going to keep me away from you, Lyra Silvertongue!"

Will leaned in to kiss Lyra goodbye as Lyra started to turn her head to present her left cheek. But Will, knowing exactly what he was doing, and what it would mean, gently placed the two remaining fingers of his left hand on her cheek to stop her head from turning. Will then placed his kiss directly on Lyra's lips. Lyra gasped softly and both children felt their hearts pounding as they looked into each other's eyes, oblivious to the others in the transporter room.

Dr. McCoy cleared his throat and his voice was soft, but firm. "Uh, Will, Lyra. This is a transporter room; not the Junior High School Homecoming Dance!"

"Oh, right," said Will. He squeezed Lyra's hands and stepped onto the transporter platform. "I'm ready, then."

When Scotty nodded, Lt. Kyle turned to Captain Kirk and said, "I've locked on to ship's stores aboard the _Volynov_. I'm ready to energize the pad at your signal, sir."

"Energize," said Kirk. And on the pad, Scotty and Will started to shimmer and moments later, they were gone.


	12. Chapter 12

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 12 **

"Please, Lieutenant Kyle," pleaded Lyra. "Think harder! What form did Pantalaimon have when we were first brought aboard?"

"I-I don't remember," replied Kyle. "A bird, or a squirrel; I think. Why?"

"Because Mr. Spock said we have to be as close to the way we were when we first came aboard! We have to wear our old clothes and Pan has to be in the form he had when you first saw us!"

"Oh, well," said Kyle. "Why not just review the records, then?"

Lyra watched the small viewer in the transporter room. It was like watching the cinema as she saw herself, Pan and Will when they first beamed aboard. Oh, Will was so brave but he was bleeding so badly! Then, she saw Pan in the form of a small bird, flying onto her shoulder as she vomited on the transporter platform. Kyle froze and magnified the image of Pan on the viewer.

"Right," said Lyra with relief. "Pan, please take that form again so we can be ready."

Pantalaimon remained a white ermine. "Lyra . . . I . . . I don't think I can."

"Please, Pan!" pleaded Lyra. "You must change! Oh, you must!"

Slowly, Pantalaimon took the form of the bird on the screen. But Captain Kirk, Dr. McCoy and Lt. Kyle saw just how much effort it took poor Pan to make the change. And Lyra felt her daemon's difficulty. Like being forced to run fast and far when you are exhausted and ready for bed.

"Lyra," said Kirk. "What is happening to Pantalaimon? Why is he having so much trouble shifting his shape?"

"This isn't us, Lyra," said Pantalaimon. "This bird form, I mean."

"Oh, Pan!" said Lyra. "Y-you can't be settling now! You just can't be . . . ."

"Will must come back soon, Lyra," said Pantalaimon. We have to go back to Cittagazze as soon as possible; then all will be as it was. This bird isn't us, Lyra. And I don't think I'll be able to change too much more while we are here . . . ."

**Interlude: In The Land of the Dead **

"Please stop here, James Kirk," said Gracious Wings.

"Do you need to take a break?" said Kirk. "An intermission?"

"No," said the harpy. "My sisters and I need to remind you and Leonard McCoy that we want you to tell us _your_ story about Will and Lyra; without any hearsay or quoting from official Starfleet reports."

"That is what we are doing," said McCoy.

"Than why were you about to tell us what happened to Will Parry and Montgomery Scott on the _Volynov_?" said Gracious Wings matter-of-factly.

"Oh, right," said Kirk. "Please forgive me, Gracious Wings. Scotty told me what happened when he and Will went over to the _Volynov_ so many times over drinks; I could almost have sworn that _I_ was there with him."

"But, you were not there with him," Gracious Wings said gently, but firmly.

"Let us pick up where Scotty and Will returned to the _Enterprise_," said McCoy. "I'm sure Scotty and Will already told Gracious Wings and her sisters what happened on the _Volynov_, Jim."

Gracious Wings shook her head. "Remember, Leonard McCoy; Will Parry retained no memory whatsoever of his time aboard the _Enterprise_. As for Montgomery Scott; he has yet to come this way and share his stories."

"How can that be?" said McCoy. "I heard that Scotty went missing with everyone else on the _USS Jenolen_ back in 2294. They were all presumed to have died."

"No," said Gracious Wings. "Montgomery Scott is not dead yet. We know this from a crewman from the _Jenolen_ named Ensign Matt Franklin. He and Montgomery Scott were the only survivors left when the _Jenolen_ collided with an enclosed sun: what you would call a 'Dyson Sphere.'

"According to Matt Franklin, Montgomery Scott modified the _Jenolen's_ transporters to serve as a survival shelter by recycling themselves through the pattern buffer continuously. Unfortunately for Matt Franklin, his pattern did not hold. Thus, he came our way several decades ago. He told us his stories. He moved on. Perhaps this will happen as well to Montgomery Scott soon, perhaps not. In any event, we harpies anxiously await his story when he does arrive."

"Well," said Kirk. "Then for now, suffice it to say that Scotty and Will returned safely to the _Enterprise_ with the biofilter components in one of the _Volynov's_ shuttlecraft."

McCoy said, "Lyra and I were in the hanger bay to meet Will and Scotty when they returned to the _Enterprise_ . . . ."

"This is shuttlecraft _Judith Resnik_, NCC-1803-2," said Scotty. "Requesting clearance ter come aboard _Enterprise_. Will and I are alright, and we got everything we need ter upgrade our transporter."

"Permission granted," replied Captain Kirk. "Well done, and welcome home!"

"How much longer," said Lyra. She felt relieved as she looked through the observation deck's window, watching the box-shaped shuttlecraft slowly turn around on the floor mounted turntable. Her heart leapt as she saw Will through the front viewport of the shuttlecraft. He had seen her and Pan and waved to them frantically.

"It will only take a few more moments, Lyra," said Dr. McCoy. "The hanger deck needs to re-pressurize; then we can go in."

When the light over the door turned from red to green, Lyra shot through, running to the shuttlecraft with Pantalaimon, still in bird form, flying alongside. The hatch opened on the shuttlecraft and Will rushed out. The two children met halfway, hugging, spinning around, and kissing each other as though they had been apart for years instead of hours.

"LYRA!" said Will, barely able to contain his excitement. He put his hands on the sides of Lyra's face. "You won't believe what happened! I _saw_ them! The Specters! On the _Volynov_! I could see them!"

"What?!"

Will told Lyra that within minutes of beaming into Ship's Stores aboard the _Volynov_, the Specters came for them. Will could not see them at that time, but Mr. Scott told him where they were. The moment Will drew the Subtle Knife; the Specters backed away, but did not leave. Moments later, Mr. Scott had located the spare biofilter hardware and loaded it onto a hovering platform. Then the hard part began as Mr. Scott and Will walked the gauntlet of Specters as they made their way to the _Volynov's_ hanger deck.

Mr. Scott had told Will that, under normal circumstances, it would only take a few minutes to go from Ship's Stores to the hanger deck on a _Miranda_-class starship; but the Specters had them surrounded. It was almost as if they could sense the fatal flaw in the two human's strategy. The Specters feared the Subtle Knife, but seemed to understand that the knife's Bearer was only a child who could not see them, and relied on the adult to point them out. Unfortunately, the adult was also preoccupied with trying to get the hardware they came for safely to the hanger deck. Moving inches at a time, Will could see Mr. Scott becoming more anxious and nervous as the Specters swooped in to feed before Will could drive them back.

All this time, Will held his fear under control. Others depended on him, and not just this Scotsman from the 23rd century. Will thought of his mother, who needed him in his own world and time. He thought of the father he never really knew, who needed him to be strong and mature so he could find and help him stop the Dust from going away. But most of all, he thought of Lyra and the feelings he had for her. She needed him more than ever, and he needed her. And then, Will Parry saw the Specters.

The Specters of Cittagazze looked roughly man-shaped; a wavering, shimmering in the air. Kind of like the alien hunter's camouflage in the _Predator_ movies. And Will attacked; destroying the creature nearest to him and Mr. Scott. Then, he slew another one. And then, another. By then, the Specters realized what was happening and began to back away from the fierce boy-no-longer-a-boy, and Mr. Scott was able to push the platform with the precious hardware the rest of the way to the hanger deck without incident.

Will could still see the Specters watching them in the cavernous hanger deck, albeit keeping a respectful distance. When Will and Mr. Scott came to the closest shuttlecraft, they saw several more Specters hiding inside, but they, too, fell to the Subtle Knife. Moments later, Will and Mr. Scott were safely on their way back to the _Enterprise_.

"Oh, Will," said Lyra. "Something has happened . . . ."

"What? Lyra, what's wrong?"

"I . . . I can't read the Alethiometer! When you left for the other ship, I tried to get the coordinates of the window for Mr. Spock. The ones I saw before . . . but I can't!"

Lyra told Will that as soon as he and Mr. Scott beamed over to the _Volynov_, she and Pantalaimon went to the bridge to help Mr. Spock locate the window the _Enterprise_ would need to pass through to get home to their own world and time. But when she tried to consult the Alethiometer for the window's coordinates, she was unable to learn anything.

Lyra had set the dials to the same symbols she had chosen when she first learned about the window orbiting Cittagazze, but was unable to slip into a proper alethiometric trance. Instead, she watched helplessly as the large needle moved, seemingly pointing at random to the other symbols.

Pantalaimon suggested that she was unable to read the Alethiometer because she was so worried about Will, but Lyra disagreed with her daemon, reminding Pan that she had successfully used the Alethiometer before under stress and was able to receive clear, detailed answers to her questions. No, Lyra had said. Something was different. She was different, but she could not say how.

Lyra had felt her heart sink. Without the Alethiometer, finding Will's father would be more difficult, but in the here and now, she would be unable to keep the promise she had made to Captain Kirk and the _Enterprise_ crew; and they relied on her to be able to go home. Lyra had felt as though she had betrayed the people on the _Enterprise_. She knew the feeling of betrayal. She had felt the same way when she realized that she had brought her best friend, Roger Parslow, to his death at the hands of her father, Lord Asriel.

Call Lyra a liar; she wouldn't even flinch. Lyra was proud of the stories she could tell. Call her a barbarian. Call her a greedy little savage. Lyra had been called much, much worse. But never, never, never call Lyra Silvertongue untrustworthy. Whatever else she was, Lyra prided herself on her loyalty to those she considered friends. It was because of this that Lyra told Will that she was willing to submit to another mind-meld with Mr. Spock in the hope that her subconscious mind remembered the coordinates to the window home for the _Enterprise_.

Will was worried, but Lyra told him that this time, the mind-meld would not be so traumatic for her and Pan. The first mind-meld, initiated accidentally when Mr. Spock attempted to protect Pantalaimon by snatching him away from the golden monkey's grasp, resulted in a flood of memories. It was analogous, Mr. Spock had said, to a massive 'data-dump' with a computer. This time, Mr. Spock would initiate the mind-meld by touching Lyra's head; obtaining the information needed and nothing else.

At that moment, a team of technicians arrived to gather the biofilter hardware and take it to the transporter room. Mr. Scott said goodbye to Will, Lyra, and Dr. McCoy, then accompanied the technicians to the transporter room to supervise the installation. Dr. McCoy then escorted Will and Lyra to the turbolift to the bridge.

"Welcome back, Mr. Parry," said Captain Kirk. "Scotty tells me that he could not have done it without your help. You know, part of me wishes you and Lyra could return to the 23rd century with us; but you have something more important to do in your own time. I guess Dust's gain is Starfleet Academy's loss."

Will smiled. "Thank you, sir." Will had his arm around Lyra's shoulder while Pan sat perched on her finger. "Though, it would be class to pilot a starship."

"Well, you would need to be a little older, Will," said Lt. Sulu. "They don't let cadets pilot starships."

"Definitely, Mr. Sulu," said Kirk. "Starfleet would _never_ trust a kid with a starship."

"I'm ready to help Mr. Spock," said Lyra. "I'm ready for the mind-meld. If the coordinates to your window are there; I'm sure Mr. Spock will find them."

"That will not be necessary, Lyra," said Spock as he stood from his work station.

"What do you mean?" said Lyra.

Captain Kirk gestured to the main viewer. Will and Lyra gasped and Pan cocked his head. On the viewer, highlighted with false-color imaging to make it easier to see, was the window in space connecting Cittagazze with Will's world, and it was surrounded by a halo of particles.

"Dust," said Lyra, almost with reverence.

"H-how did you find it?" said Will.

"Prior to our escape from the alternate-timeline space fleet of the Magisterium," said Spock. "Will had told Lyra that, in addition to his parents and neighbor, 'Dr. Malone' was also deceased. Initially, I assumed that Will was referring to his mother's physician, however, I knew of another Dr. Malone from my studies of Second Elizabethan English history. A doctor Mary Malone, whose doctorate was in physics.

"Dr. Malone's early research was focused on the location and study of Dark Matter. Indeed, Lyra had visited Dr. Malone at Oxford University in Will's world to enquire about the 'Dust' she was seeking. After concluding that 'Dust' and 'Dark Matter' were in fact the same, I configured the Enterprise's sensors to scan for Dark Matter; allowing me to locate, four minutes three seconds later, the spatial interphasic rift that had ensnared the _Volynov_ as well as the _Enterprise_."

"Thank you, Lyra," said Kirk. "I would say this fulfills your end of our agreement; you did help Mr. Spock find the window back home."

Lyra was so happy that she did not betray the people from the future, that Pan had to nip her ear to get her attention and remind her to say, "you're welcome."


	13. Chapter 13

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 13**

Captain's Log, Supplemental: It has been nearly an hour since Chief Engineer Scott has installed the biofilters from the _Volynov_ on our transporter. Now, after conducting a series of tests with live pathogen samples in Petri dishes, Dr. McCoy has informed me that the new hardware is operating according to specifications. We are now ready to return Will Parry, Lyra Belacqua, and her daemon, Pantalaimon, safely back to Cittagazze.

I cannot help but state the word 'safely' in this log entry with some irony. While it is true that Lyra is no longer in danger of suffering a horrible death from food poisoning, it is undeniable that we will be sending two _children_ down to the mercy of a hostile planet. In addition, I have no doubt that Mrs. Coulter, the 'She-wolf of the Magisterium,' as well as her accomplices, will remain a very clear and present danger to Will and Lyra's safety.

When Will and Lyra are beamed back to Cittagazze at the moment we initially beamed them aboard the _Enterprise_, they will be completely on their own; unable to remember anything of the time they were with us. This is, of course, the point. But because of this, there is nothing I can say to them, no advice anyone can give them, to make their task any easier.

But before we beam Will and Lyra back to Cittagazze and return home ourselves; there remains one final duty to perform . . . .

Will and Lyra stood with their arms around each other on the bridge of the _Enterprise_, looking at the main viewer. The United Federation of Planets starship, _USS Volynov_ was about to break Cittagazze orbit. Her final voyage at slightly over warp factor one would end some five minutes later in the outer atmosphere of Cittagazze's sun some eight light minutes away.

Before giving Spock the order to send the _Volynov_ on her way, Captain Kirk spoke about duty and sacrifice and the bond felt by all Starfleet personnel when others fell while exploring the great Final Frontier.

As Captain Kirk spoke, Will Parry bowed his head in silent prayer. As the son of a soldier and an explorer, Will could appreciate what the _Enterprise_ crew was feeling. And Lyra, sensing his feelings, put her head on his shoulder to comfort him.

"Captain," said Scotty. "I feel the dunsel to just be standin' here, doin' nothing but twiddlin' me thumbs. But I broke me pipes!"

"It's alright, Scotty," said Kirk. "Lt. Uhura assures me she has the tribute covered."

"Aye, I know she recorded me pipin' the last time I played 'Amazing Grace,' captain, but the _Volynov's_ crew deserves better than a recorded tribute!"

While reading up on the installation of the biofilter components, Scotty had absentmindedly sat on his bunk, only to remember that he had his bagpipes set out, accidentally breaking two of the drones. He cursed himself for being clumsy. Though he was second to none when it came to repairing (and often improving in the process,) the latest Starfleet technology, he would need to go to the music store in Aberdeen on Earth to have a musical instrument craftsperson properly fix his most prized possession.

Scotty felt a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. Scott," said Uhura. "I'll sing the tribute." Uhura stepped alongside the main viewer. "Will, have you ever heard of a singer named Sarah McLachlan? She was from your time."

"I think so," said Will nodding.

"Well, her song, 'Angel,' has been sung for comfort and healing for almost three hundred years. You probably have not heard this song yet, Will," said Uhura. "It first came out in 1997."

Captain Kirk gave the order for Spock to send the _Volynov_ on her way; safe from the grasp of Mrs. Coulter and the Magisterium. On the main viewer, the Specter-infested ship swiftly broke Cittagazze orbit. Then, she seemed to stretch out like a rubber band, jumping to faster-than-light-speed in a brilliant flash.

Mr. Spock looked into his view scope. "Captain, the _USS Volynov _is approximately four minutes, thirteen seconds away from starfall."

Captain Kirk called for silence as Uhura began to sing the ancient song, which was being broadcast shipwide. Lyra began crying softly on Will's shoulder and bird-formed Pantalaimon snuggled as close to Lyra as possible. The rest of the _Enterprise's_ bridge crew stood at attention, except for Mr. Spock, who continued to monitor the _Volynov's_ progress from the viewer at his station.

When Uhura finished singing, Mr. Spock was the first to speak. "Captain, at precisely twenty-one seconds before Lt. Uhura finished her tribute to the _Volynov's_ crew; the _Volynov_ entered the outer atmosphere of Cittagazze's sun. The _Volynov's_ shields failed point-oh-four seconds later."

"Then there is nothing left for us here," said Kirk. "Let's go home."

"Captain, the final adjustments for our return Light-Speed Breakaway Factor maneuver are completed," said Spock. "All that remains is for Will, Lyra and Pantalaimon to prepare for their departure . . . ."

"I think we can wait a few more moments, Mr. Spock," said Captain Kirk quietly, indicating Will and Lyra, who were still hugging each other tightly.

Spock raised his eyebrows. "Indeed."

"Well, Spock," said Dr. McCoy sotto voce. "Hard to believe the fate of all reality as we know it depends on what these two children are able to accomplish. 'Most illogical,' wouldn't you say?"

"Improbable, doctor," replied Spock. "But evidently, something does not have to be logical to be true."

"Captain," said Will. "Lyra and I are ready to go. Thank you all for everything you have done for us."

"And don't worry about us," said Lyra. "We'll find Will's father. We'll find out all about Dust. And we'll do it together, Will and me. We en't gonna let anything happen to each other."

"You'll have to forgive us for not accompanying you to the transporter room," said Kirk. Mr. Spock and I are needed on the bridge and Mr. Scott is needed in engineering, but Dr. McCoy will see you safely on your way."

Now Mr. Spock stepped closer to Will and Lyra. He raised his right hand in a gesture of farewell, splaying his fingers. "Will Parry, Lyra Belacqua and Pantalaimon: Live long, and prosper."

"Thank you," said Lyra. Pantalaimon nodded his little head in a gesture of thanks.

Will did not know how to respond. His right arm was still around Lyra's shoulder, and he did not think he could return Mr. Spock's salute with his left hand, even if he _had_ all of his fingers. Instead, he held his left arm out at right angle, closing his remaining fingers into a fist. "Uh, 'By Grabthar's Hammer . . . May the Force be with you!'"

Mr. Spock raised his eyebrows. "Indeed."

And after saying goodbye to the rest of the Enterprise crew, Will and Lyra followed Dr. McCoy into the turbolift.


	14. Chapter 14

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 14 **

Lyra Belacqua with Pantalaimon on her shoulder followed Nurse Chapel to the transporter room. She was no longer wearing the Bajoran-style clothing that she and Nurse Chapel had spent so much time selecting. She was back in the torn and filthy green sleeveless blouse and tartan skirt that she wore when she and Will were first beamed aboard this amazing ship of the stars from the future of Will's world.

Although Lyra's old clothes had been restored to "pre-beam-up" condition, they were far from clean, and Lyra wrinkled her nose as she put them back on. Did she really smell _that_ bad? It was odd, thought Lyra, who never worried about being clean before.

In truth, there were many times when Lyra had been far smellier, far filthier, and was proud of it. The raid on the Costa's boat. The Battle of the Claybeds. Bolvangar. Svalbard. Cittagazze. In the past, Lyra had bragged on many occasions to Roger Parslow as well as the other kids at Oxford that there ". . . en't _nobody_ who could make a lady out of me!"

But this time, it was different. She was going to see Will. And she so desperately wanted to be clean for him.

"Don't worry," said Pantalaimon. "Will isn't going to think badly of us because of how we smell. He likes us for who we are!"

Wearing the clothing he wore when he first came aboard, Will Parry waited in the transporter room with Dr. McCoy. Since the only other people in the transporter room with him were Lt. Kyle and Dr. McCoy, Will changed there, taking less than five minutes to do so. The only detail remaining was for Lyra to retie his bandage before they beamed back to Cittagazze.

"Is that the same bandage I was wearing when I came aboard?" said Will, pointing to the clean strip of cloth in Dr. McCoy's hand.

"No," said McCoy. "That one was thrown away. But we reviewed the transporter records and we were able to make a very close copy."

"It looks so clean," said Will.

"Don't worry about that, Will," said Dr. McCoy. "Unfortunately, _you'll_ take care of _that_ little detail yourself as soon as you are beamed back."

The intercom in the transporter room beeped. It was Nurse Chapel. "Is Will decent? I'm just outside the door with Lyra and Pantalaimon."

"We've been ready for the past twenty minutes," said Dr. McCoy. "C'mon in!"

The door opened and Nurse Chapel came in with Lyra and Pan. Will smiled as soon as he saw them, and went over to meet them. Though it could not have been much more than twenty minutes since they last saw each other, for Will, it seemed much longer.

"I smell really bad, Will," said Lyra softly as Will came closer. He gently put his arms around her and inhaled deeply.

"There is no way you could _ever_ smell bad to me, Lyra," said Will. He kissed her gently on her lips.

Lyra returned Will's kiss, smiling. "And everyone says that _I'm_ the one with the Silvertongue."

Dr. McCoy watched Lyra tie Will's bandage. The moment they were beamed back, Will's hand would begin to bleed profusely again. He wanted to give her advice, show her the correct way to do it. He also wanted to teach her how to look after her friend's injured hand properly. But for once, McCoy could agree with Spock. Such advice _would_ be "illogical," for the children would soon forget that they were ever on the _Enterprise_. When Lyra was done, she, Pan and Will stepped onto the transporter platform, each child standing on a separate disk, awaiting their return to Cittagazze.

"I think it might be best if you both stand together on one disk," said Lt. Kyle. "The ship's inertial dampers are sometimes slow to react during a Light-Speed Breakaway Factor maneuver. It'll probably be a rough ride; you'll have to steady each other."

Of course, Will and Lyra needed no encouragement to stand close together, and were on the same disk before Lt. Kyle could finish his explanation. They stood facing each other and Pantalaimon grabbed Lyra's right shoulder tightly. They barely heard Dr. McCoy signal the bridge that they were in position. A moment later, Will and Lyra felt the _Enterprise_ get under way.

"We'll find your father, Will," said Lyra resolutely. "We'll find Dust and make everything right and proper."

"And after we do," said Will. "I think you should come back to my world, with me and my father. You can't stay in your world; not with Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel and the Magisterium there. You can stay with us."

"Transporter room," said Mr. Spock over the intercom. "Prepare to energize in 15.3 seconds on my mark."

"It'll be quite a trick," said Lyra smiling. "Trying to explain Pan to everyone in your world!"

In the background, Will and Lyra could hear Mr. Spock, over the intercom, counting down from ten. Will and Lyra leaned in to kiss each other.

"I love you, Lyra Silvertongue," said Will.

"I love you, Will Parry," said Lyra.

"Energize," said Mr. Spock over the intercom.

Will and Lyra were beamed back to Cittagazze, and the proper timeline was restored.

Lyra realized that she was lying on her back in wet grass under a full moon. Pantalaimon was lying on her chest in bird form. To her left, she could see Will lying next to her on his stomach, the poor thing. His bandage was thoroughly sodden with blood, but she could see that he was breathing and felt immediate relief.

Suddenly, Lyra remembered. Cittagazze! She and Will had just escaped from her mother, Mrs. Coulter, and her accomplice, Sir Charles. Immediately, she felt for the pouch to her side, again, feeling relief when she found her Alethiometer was where it should be.

"What happened, Lyra," said Pan groggily. "The last thing I remembered, we were going to look at some fallen statues, or something." Pan changed from the bird into a ferret and hopped on to Lyra's shoulder as she knelt besides Will.

"Will," said Lyra, gently shaking her friend's shoulder. "Oh, Will, please wake up. We must have passed out!"

Slowly, Will pushed himself up, wincing as he put weight on his wounded left hand. Lyra helped him stand up the rest of the way. "I . . . remember seeing something over here . . . fallen statues or . . . no . . . _bodies_. _Dead bodies_!"

"Oh, Will, there en't no dead bodies or statues here! Nobody but us! We're just scared and imagining things! Come on now, Will, we have to get inside, oh we must! There will be beds to sleep in and food to eat. We'll be safe now. We got the Alethiometer back from Mrs. Coulter and Sir Charles. And after I make you a new bandage and we rest and eat, I will help you find your father. I'll do nothing now except help you find your father, I promise . . . ."

Lyra helped steady her friend, who was tired from combat and weak from loss of blood. Together, they entered the white house, which gleamed under the full moon of Cittagazze. And overhead, unseen by Will and Lyra, a shooting star flashed toward the future and home.


	15. Chapter 15

SHIP OF THE STARS

**Chapter 15 **

"What is our position, Lieutenant Chekov?" Captain Kirk held his breath.

"Approaching Earth orbit, sir," replied Chekov. "This is the correct year, based on the position of the planets and stars relative to our own position. In addition, I am detecting normal space traffic."

"Captain," said Lt. Uhura. "I am detecting normal transmissions on all subspace channels."

Kirk nodded. "So far; so good. Mr. Spock, is the warning buoy ready to be launched?"

"Affirmative, captain," said Spock. "However, the spatial interphasic rift joining our universe with the universe of Cittagazze appears to have vanished."

"Could it have been moved into a different orbit as the result of our passing through?"

"Negative, captain. Sensors do not indicate any leakage of dark matter anywhere in the Sol system, though I am unable to ascertain the reason for the rift's disappearance."

"Captain," said Uhura. "I am receiving a message from Starfleet Command. They say we are clear to enter spacedock and they are requesting an immediate update on our mission."

"Inform them that . . . the _USS Volynov_ was located but could not be recovered and was lost with all hands. We were only able to recover five bodies," said Kirk. "I will submit my full report in person as soon as we are safely in spacedock."

The _Enterprise_ rested in spacedock. Her warp and impulse drives were shut down cold in preparation for the most extensive refit of a starship in Starfleet history. Her systems now operated from power supplied by umbilical conduits from spacedock.

Most of her crew had disembarked, even Captain Kirk, whose debriefing at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco was still underway with Starfleet and Federation officials, including representatives of the Federation's Department of Temporal Investigations. Rumor had it that Kirk would be promoted to Admiral in the near future.

Dr. McCoy left sickbay, his home for the past five years, for what he hoped would be the last time. Even though he would not be needed as a guardian for Will and Lyra, there were still things he wanted to do, and he had absolutely no intention of ever returning to Starfleet. Surprisingly, Starfleet approved his resignation immediately, under the stipulation that he be available for his debriefing scheduled for early next week. After a brief side trip to engineering, where he said goodbye to Scotty, who would be staying aboard Enterprise for a little while longer to supervise the refit, McCoy set out for the transporter room at a brisk pace.

Normally, McCoy shunned the transporter whenever possible, but all shuttlecraft on the _Enterprise_, even the _Judith Resnik_ from the _Volynov_, were flown to Starfleet Headquarters on Earth for overhaul and re-assignment. (Rumor had it that the _Galileo II_ would be decommissioned and stand as a 'gate guardian' at the entrance to Starfleet Academy.) In any event, Dr. Leonard McCoy was anxious to be back home to Georgia in North America in time for a good lunch, so the transporter was his only choice. _Either way_, he thought, _it will be over in seconds, good or bad_.

When McCoy arrived at the transporter room, Lt. Kyle was still at his station and would remain there until the refit technicians arrived in three hours with a transporter chief to relive him. Mr. Spock was there as well, preparing two containers to be beamed to Earth. He held a communicator in each hand, shifting his gaze from one to the other.

"Fascinating," said Spock.

"If you are trying to decide, Spock, I think the one in your right hand is prettier."

"Your sarcasm is most illogical, doctor," said Spock. He then went over to the transporter platform and placed one communicator in a case resting on one disk, and the other communicator in a similar case on a disk nearby. He then latched both cases and went over to McCoy. "These communicators are absolutely identical."

"I know that, Spock," said McCoy.

"No, doctor, I do not believe that you do," said Spock. "The equipment in the case to your right was brought aboard the _Enterprise_ by Marisa Coulter. The case on your left contains the identical pieces of equipment that were beamed aboard with the recovered bodies from the _Volynov_, immediately after Will Parry and Lyra Belacqua were returned to their proper place and time.

"Each case contains five communicators, five type-2 phasers, one type-3 phaser rifle, and three tricorders. Each item has a counterpart in the other case; absolutely identical, from the scratches on the casings to the charge level in the power cells. They are identical down to the molecular level.

"I am preparing to beam down to Oxford University on Earth, where I shall hand deliver these containers to a team of researchers who are attempting to perfect pattern replication technology. I believe they will find these artifacts most useful."

"Oxford? In England?" Then, Dr. McCoy had a thought. "Mind if I tag along, Spock? I can take an air tram to Georgia from there."

"While I do not mind your company, doctor, your decision is most illogical. Starfleet will not reimburse you for your travel expenses once you disembark from the _Enterprise_, now that you have resigned. An air tram from Heathrow to Atlanta will be expensive."

"Well, Spock," said McCoy bitterly. "I suddenly find myself with a great deal of disposable income, now that I won't be buying any back-to-school supplies for a couple of kids."

McCoy joined Spock on the transporter platform and soon found himself at Oxford University on Earth. Not really knowing what he expected to find, he strolled around the grounds, eventually ending up in the Botanical Garden. By that time, he had been walking for hours, and looked around for a place to sit. A few moments later, Dr. McCoy saw a bench under a tree, though it was already occupied by what appeared to be an elderly gentleman with a cat on his lap. Surely, this gentleman would not mind sharing his bench with a Starfleet veteran, if only for a few moments.

As McCoy came closer, he could see the bench's occupant was not a man at all, but rather, a life-size bronze statue of a man. And he looked very familiar. The intensity of the man's stare. The jutting jaw. Then, McCoy noticed the statue's left hand, stroking the cat. The two small fingers were missing!

Frantically, McCoy read the dedication plaque bolted to the empty side of the bench:

DEDICATED TO DR. WILLIAM PARRY, MD

1984 – 2070

DIAGNOSTICIAN ROYAL

DONATED BY LYRA AND JOHN PARRY

MIDSUMMERS DAY 2075

Dr. McCoy breathed a sigh of relief. He still had his communicator with him, and immediately contacted the _Enterprise_.

"Scott here, doctor. Is everything alright?"

"Perfectly, Scotty. I got some great news! Will and Lyra made it! The kids turned out alright!"

"Did they, now? Well, that is great news! Why don't I just beam ye up and ye can tell me all about it? Dinna worry, I'll square it wi' Starfleet!"

McCoy smiled. Why not? "Tell Mr. Kyle I'm ready!"

"Well, doctor, Lt. Kyle beamed down ter Sheffield half an hour ago when the refit crew arrived. The new transporter operator's name is Lt. Philip Pullman. Should I have him report ter the transporter room and bring ye aboard?"

"Lt. Pullman, huh?" said McCoy. "Never heard of him! If my molecules are going to be sliced and diced, I'd rather have someone I know and trust at the controls."

"Well, doctor, I could be in the transporter room in a few minutes. Would I do?"

"Perfectly!" said Dr. McCoy, smiling from ear to ear. "Beam me up, Scotty!"

**Epilogue: In The Land of the Dead **

"Of course, at the time, I assumed that the 'Lyra' on the dedication plaque was Lyra Belacqua, and that she had married Will," said Dr. McCoy. "The 'John,' I guessed, was their son, named for Will's father."

Gracious Wings nodded knowingly.

"When we did more research," said Kirk. "We learned that the Lyra and John on the plaque were Will's children. We found out some time later that he had married a woman named Karen Norrington, who was a science-fiction author by trade."

"And how did that make you feel, James Kirk?" said gracious Wings.

"Sad, at first," said Kirk, his voice hushed. "Will and Lyra were so much in love. You could tell, just by looking at them."

"It was a pure, first love," added McCoy, smiling warmly. "Uncomplicated by lust of any kind. I mean, they were children, right? If hormones were anti-matter, they would not have had enough between them to blow their noses!"

"But, that was changing," said Kirk. "They seemed to have aged a great deal from the moment they came aboard the _Enterprise_ to the moment they were beamed back to their proper timeline. Children who were no longer children, if that makes any sense."

"Yes," said Gracious Wings. "It does. And now, gentlemen, we harpies thank you for your story. Are you prepared to leave the Land of the Dead?"

James Kirk nodded, and the door opened. Kirk shook hands with McCoy one final time. "Farewell, Bones. It's time to explore the true Final Frontier!" And James Kirk stepped through, his Dust scattering.

"Now, wait just one dawgone minute, here, Gracious Wings!" said McCoy. "I can live, if you will pardon the expression, without wings and harps. I can also accept fire and brimstone. But no one ever said anything about having my atoms scattered! I had my fill of that in life!"

"Don't worry, Dr. Leonard McCoy," said Gracious Wings. "You will live on in birds and flowers and dragonflies and pine trees. You will live on in clouds and little specks of light you see floating in sunbeams. Your atoms will be used to make new lives."

"Still sounds like 'transporter failure,' to me," said McCoy.

"No, not at all,' replied Gracious Wings. "That is the nature of Dust. Where do you think the atoms that made up your consciousness came from? From those who have lived before you. And I will let you in on a little secret: there are two very special atoms that are a part of you, Leonard McCoy. You are among a privileged few to have these atoms as part of your makeup.

"You see, doctor, when Will and Lyra left the Land of the Dead for the second, and final time, they clung together so tightly that their atoms became entangled. And when your atoms scatter, they will still be clinging together so tightly that nothing may separate them."

So with this knowledge, Leonard McCoy left the Land of the Dead, his atoms scattering for one final time, with two atoms, once belonging to two young lovers, tightly bound for all eternity, seeking out new life.

**The End**

**Author's Afterthoughts**

This is the first work of fanfiction that I have actually completed. I have had many other ideas for stories in the past, even going as far as jotting down notes or writing a chapter or two; but this is the first story that I have ever completed and placed on line to be read by others.

And I have a confession to make: Writing fan fiction is not as easy as I first thought it would be. Thank God for the 'Memory Alpha' and 'Srafopedia' websites. I must have referred to them hundreds of times each! Also, the '' website provided inspiration, especially the "Fan Art" section, which helped me to visualize the characters and worlds created by Philip Pullman. (The drawings by the artist Fulyasi, are the closest to how I imagined Mrs. Coulter's appearance – sort of a Joan Collins-y or Jane Badler-ish look. And "Proficy Fulfilled," by artist Chelsea Cleveland-Hurley, was _exactly_ how I envisioned Will and Lyra as they are being beamed back to Cittagazze.)

Because "crossover" stories are my all-time favorites, I knew that I wanted to write one for my first effort. Since I am _very_ familiar with the _Star Trek_ universe, I knew I wanted to set my first story there. And since I had just finished reading the 'His Dark Materials' books, including 'Lyra's Oxford,' I thought it would be fun to beam Will and Lyra (and Pantalaimon, too, of course,) aboard the _USS_ _Enterprise_ for an adventure.

Due to numerous practical issues (and not all of them legal,) many of these crossover stories could never actually be _filmed_. However, thanks to the magic of fanfic, these stories may be _told_. But to tell them means asking and answering numerous questions before anything may be written. How would a person's 'daemon' register on a tricorder? Would phasers be effective against the Specters of Indifference? And so on.

Many _Star Trek_ Original Series episodes were referenced in this story, especially 'Assignment: Earth,' and 'Tomorrow is Yesterday,' (which make use of the Light-Speed Breakaway Factor time-travel maneuver.) 'Space Seed,' (for the references to Kahn Noonian Singh and the Eugenics Wars.) 'The Enterprise Incident,' and 'The Paradise Syndrome,' (for Lyra's Alethiometry demonstration.) And a host of others. For example, 'Patterns of Force,' provided the little tidbit about Dr. McCoy's problems with obtaining properly-sized boots from the Wardrobe Section, and 'Plato's Stepchildren' provided the kironide reference.

The _Star Trek_ Animated Series also provided details, such as a cameo appearance of the felinoid Communications Officer Lieutenant M'Ress, and the _sehlat_ (mentioned in passing in TOS episode, 'Journey to Babel,' as a 'fat teddy bear . . . with six-inch fangs,') and the _le-matya_, appearing as the daemons (or _katras_) of Vulcans from Lyra's universe.

_Star Trek:_ The Next Generation gets a nod with passing references to the Bajorans and the Betazoids. (The Betazoids were the main reason why I did not write my fanfic as a 'Next Generation' story. The moment Counselor Deanna Troi or her mother, Lwaxana, met Lyra; the "Pantalaimon mystery" would have been instantly solved!) The reference to Scotty's use of the _USS Jenolen's_ transporter as an emergency shelter for 75 years when his transport crashed on the surface of a Dyson Sphere is from the Next Generation episode, 'Relics.'

The _Star Trek_ 'First Contact' movie provided the details of (our) Earth's first successful attempt to break the "light barrier," leading to contact with the Vulcans.

Most of the ships used by Dame Marisa Coulter's Magisterial Celestial Navy were reverse-engineered copies of (our) Earth's 22nd century NX-Class starships as seen in the _Star Trek: Enterprise_ television series.

In addition, students of _Star Trek_ lore will know immediately why Captain Kirk (William Shatner) would "roll his eyes" when offered fruit salad.

And if only Marisa Coulter knew of Captain James T. Kirk's reputation as a "ladies man,' she would have been even more enraged when he turned her down. (Serves her right, in my opinion!)

Oddly, the one _Star Trek_ Original Series episode that _didn't_ get a referral in this story was 'Mirror, Mirror;' the only episode where the crew of the _USS Enterprise_ had to deal with an alternate, parallel universe which was inhabited by their evil doubles.

I realize that some hard-core HDM fans will not like my story for writing that Will and Lyra get married to people in their own worlds, have children and get on with their lives. But I found the ending of 'The Amber Spyglass' to be very depressing and I felt that, after all that Will and Lyra have been through, they _deserved_ a little happiness. They certainly earned it. They saved the multiverse, after all!

In conclusion, I would like to thank Gene Roddenberry and Philip Pullman for the wonderfully thought-provoking universes and characters that they created.

I would like to thank my 'beta-readers,' Matt, Lisa, and Stacy.

And a special thanks to my son, Joshua, whose computer skills were invaluable to this project.


End file.
